


How Many Colors

by OCQueen96



Series: Beautiful Lies [2]
Category: Naruto
Genre: DeidaraxOC - Freeform, F/M, Naruto Shippuden - Freeform, naruto - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-26
Updated: 2018-08-27
Packaged: 2019-06-16 09:01:38
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 9
Words: 72,499
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15433566
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/OCQueen96/pseuds/OCQueen96
Summary: Tucked away in the Land of Rivers is a tiny, isolated, village known as Chouwa. Every person born in Chouwa dies there, the outside world nothing but a distant fantasy. There is one girl, however, who yearns for more. When Kaminari is forced to choose between befriending an intriguing criminal and being shunned by her home, will she leave or will she conform? {Mature for later chapters} {This story is a companion to "The Hidden Truth"}





	1. Chapter One

_**Disclaimer: I do not own Naruto.  
** _

* * *

_Satellite, shine on me tonight._

_I will be your gravity. I will stay and never leave._

_My satellite, are you here tonight?_

_Shine your light, and set me free. Take the darkness out of me._

_Shine on me._

_~Satellite by Starset_

* * *

**Chapter One**

Deep in an emerald forest that lies halfway between the Land of Fire and the Land of Wind is a narrow trail. The forest is a thick one, and the path is becoming overgrown by foliage, so it can be concluded that this specific location sees few travelers. The last time a person made their way down this deserted trail couldn't have been less than a week ago. Yet, it couldn't have been longer than a month ago, either. The trail certainly sports its share of sprouting grasses, although it serves its purpose.

Making their way through the isolated forest are two men. The man closets to the path's right is of average height and lean, while the one on the left is short and bulky. If someone else happened to be making their way down the trail, it would be clear to that person that the two men are traveling together. Each of them wears identical black cloaks printed with red clouds, as well as the same concealing straw hat with dangling tassels. Chiming can be heard mingling amongst a gentle breeze, most likely due to small bells that are attached to several of the tassels. The chiming is far from loud. It is faint, mysterious, and lingering, similar to the men themselves.

Besides the soft ringing and the gentle breeze, the surrounding foliage is consumed by silence. Even the chattering of rodents and the chirping of birds has vanished, leaving nothing but the duo's dominating presence. They have been traveling for five straight days and suffered a heated battle toward the conclusion of the fourth. There is no doubt that each of them must be tired and that their chakra is running low. Yet the sight of them remains irrevocably sinister. Their unyielding stances induce fear, and their cloaks with the red clouds serve as an ominous reminder of precisely the horrors that the two men are capable of.

Were others around, they would keep their silence in order to maintain the persona that has been attained. However, due to the lack of human life, they allow themselves to bring down their guard. The person who does this first is the shortest of the two, and he does it with a deep, gravelly, voice. Vexation is heard the entire time he speaks, as if he is working desperately to kill a bug, but it continues living despite efforts to destroy it.

"I still can't believe that Lord Pein wanted  _you_  to join the Akatsuki. A brat like you doesn't belong here. The mission that we just finished only proves my point. I could have taken out our target by myself without help from anyone."

Beneath the brim of his tasseled hat, the man is revealed to have tan, rough, skin. His eyes are slanted, and the bottom portion of his face is concealed by a piece of loose, black, cloth. The majority of passersby they've come across find his appearance strange, wondering if he is truly a flesh and blood person. Little did any of them know that this is only an outer shell that contains an entire other entity.

Once he is through speaking, the taller man gives a response. However, underneath his hat, it is seen that the word _"man"_  does not accurately describe him. His face is smooth, entirely youthful, and has an almost innocent appearance to it, making  _"boy"_  a more suitable term. If someone took time to examine him closely, they would most likely conclude that he is around fourteen years of age. Nonetheless, in spite of his youth, it isn't difficult to tell that the boy is a threat. His narrow blue eyes have a lethal glint to them; one that contains arrogance as well as a hint of insanity.

Raising an index finger bearing black nail polish to his face, he shoves aside a strand of blonde hair while responding to his companion. The boy wears a smug smile.

"I noticed that you've been awfully moody ever since we finished our mission, Sasori my man. At first I thought it was because of chakra exhaustion, but now I know the real reason. You're jealous because I was able to assassinate our target on my own, and it was only my second mission, un." Smirk broadening, he adds, "For my third week in the Akatsuki, I'm not doing too bad."

Once this is said, the isolated trail falls into a state of heavy reticence. Several minutes pass, the gentle breeze and the light jingling of bells the only sounds that waft through the forest. Along with this comes the occasional chirping of a bird. Besides this, not a sound is heard.

It takes what feels like eternity, but at last dialogue fills the air. What's said on Sasori's part is not complex. Nevertheless, the man manages to make his mark.

"Out of all the ninja I've met, none have been as reckless as you. You're going to bomb yourself into an early grave, Deidara."

The young man hesitates momentarily, taking in the remark. Unsurprisingly, it doesn't take long for him to refute this assumption with a shrug of nonchalance.

"Art is a sublime experience that is supposed to last for only a second, un. Living a short and reckless life is far better than an eternal and prudent one. Honestly, I prefer living this way. You never know how a few seconds can change a masterpiece, un. It makes life like a work of art."

Every other time when the two have spoken, this is normally where Sasori would counter Deidara's ideologies. Knowing how many previous conversations have turned out, he should be starting on a tangent about how true art is eternal. Having a masterpiece last forever and be infinitely unchanging are exactly the topics the man should be preparing to broach. However, for the first time since they've met, this discussion doesn't happen. Instead there is a change in the structure of the narrow trail, capturing the attention of both artists.

To most, the transformation of the dirt pathway wouldn't mean much, but for Deidara and Sasori this change is crucial. The trail, which has been long and straight for seemingly endless kilometers, has split into a fork. This is exactly the split that they have been waiting for. Or at least this is true as far as Deidara is concerned. His blue irises fill with a type of exceedingly rare enthusiasm.

Without another word to Sasori, he adjusts his straw hat bearing the hanging tassels and saunters toward the right side of the fork. Sasori, who was slowly inching toward the left path, hesitates to give Deidara a bemused stare. Upon seeing the direction that the blonde is heading, he never wavers in making an inquiry.

"Where are you going? The northeast branch hideout is this way."

Deidara doesn't turn to face him. He gives his partner an explanation as he continues toward the desired pathway.

"I know, and that's why I'm going this way. The northeast branch hideout is where Itachi lives, and I really don't feel like being near him, un. I'm going to restock on detonating clay at this town not too far from here, and then I'm heading southwest to the main hideout. I'll meet you there in a day or two, un."

* * *

Most often, in terms of towns, there are only two types. There are large, bustling, towns filled with lively civilians, a variety of shops, and picturesque scenery. Then there are tiny, hinterland, towns that have only the necessary shops, minimal scenery, and everyday people who are simply trying to survive. Very rarely are there towns that meet both standards. Yet, in some locations, these towns do exist. In the Land of Rivers, closer to the Land of Fire's border than the Land of Wind, is a village that goes by the name  _Chouwa_.

Chouwa, while it is a very small settlement with its share of mundane people, manages to be upbeat and lively. The buildings are plain and wooden, but are also kept looking new, and have a unique sparkle to them. With bright flowers planted around every dwelling place, crystal clear waters flowing only a short distance away, and a thicket of lush green trees surrounding the village from all sides, this only adds to Chouwa's exceptional charm. What makes this village all the more attractive to outsiders, however, is the fact that it is home to several rare items that can scarcely be found elsewhere.

One product that is exclusive to Chouwa are special types of candies that can only be created using spices from the forest that directly surrounds the village. Another would be oddly shaped, yet beautiful, glass rocks that are found by the riverbed. Also found by the riverbed, another one of Chouwa's unique assets, is a special type of clay that can be easily infused with chakra. When combined with a person's chakra, the jutsu caster can enable the clay to do impossible things. Glow, move at will, transform into breathing animals, explode; with the clay found by the riverbed inside Chouwa, possibilities for what a jutsu user can do with it are endless.

It is for these reasons that, despite being a backwoods town located in a hard to reach area in the Land of Rivers, the village of Chouwa sees a decent number of visitors. Some civilians despise these visitors, wishing that they would go away so that they can keep to themselves. Others don't have much of an opinion at all about travelers. They come, enjoy the sights, spend money, and leave. Their lives move on with or without tourists.

Then, finally, there are a select few individuals who  _live_  for outsiders.

These people would be the ones who have been born, raised, and trapped in this village, and who will most likely never leave. They will get married, raise their children in Chouwa, watch their grandchildren and great-grandchildren grow up in Chouwa, and then die and be buried in Chouwa. They are fully aware of this inevitable fact, whether they accept it or not. Thus, these are the people who work at the shops that sell the specialty candy, the glass rocks, and the clay. Working at these shops enables them to meet the travelers who pass through the village, giving them the taste of the outside world that they crave.

In Chouwa is one girl who fits into the latter category better than anyone. To the dismay of the villagers, but not so much to her own disappointment, she does a very poor job of hiding her infatuation. This girl is bubbly, is employed at Chouwa's candy store to match her enthusiasm, and has grass-colored eyes that never cease to be filled with wonder. At fourteen years old she might seem a bit young to have a job, but nonetheless, she performs her tasks well. This young girl's name is Kaminari.

Dressed in a simple, tan, kimono-style dress with a dark green obi adorning the middle, she dashes around the shop. The cuffs of her forest green pants narrowly miss brushing the floor. Tied over her clothing is a crisp, white, apron, which Kaminari wears proudly as she sweeps the shop's splintering floorboards. The whole time she works the girl scarcely pauses, the only exception being when she hesitates to tuck one of her medium-length, raven, tresses back into her high ponytail. Currently, she works near the candy store's front set of windows, peeking across the street, sweeping, and talking to her coworker behind the counter simultaneously.

"Isn't it great, Fuji?! I've never seen this many travelers come through Chouwa in one afternoon! Today I sold a box of hard candy to a man all the way from the Land of Snow! Ooh, and I also met a woman from Kirigakure! Today has been the best day  _ever_ ,and it's not even noon!"

Kaminari turns her tall frame at an angle so that she can see her much shorter coworker with the chocolate brown eyes. Fuji is six years older, although it doesn't feel like it most of the time. Especially not when the woman smiles the way she does now.

"You know, I think the day is going just as well for Aimi across the street and for old man Nao's rock shop a few doors down. Every time a tourist comes in here, you tell them to check out the shops that sell the clay and the rocks. Business has to be booming for them both right now!"

The green-eyed girl shrugs while giving a beaming grin. "Well, yeah! I don't want to hoard all the tourists for myself! These guys are all from super far away! They deserve to meet these people!"

Kaminari doesn't see it, but the instant she looks away to return her full attention to sweeping, Fuji's smile fades in displeasure.

"You're definitely obsessed, Kaminari. You should meet a boy. Go on a walk with him, start courting. Focus on something else for a change. Chouwa is a wonderful village and a good place to spend your life. It isn't healthy for you to be so fixated on the outside world."

Her beaming smile never dimming, Kaminari replies in joyful nonchalance. "Everybody has an obsession, Fuji, and interesting people are mine. There are so many people and so many places to discover! Why would I ever want to start dating a boring Chouwa boy and stop meeting travelers?"

Fuji exhales nervously. "But you're so open and so willing to talk to these people! Aren't you afraid that one day you're going to approach the wrong person?"

Tucking another raven lock back into her ponytail, Kaminari takes a moment to stare across the street at the shop that sells their village's clay. The entire time she processes her friend's question, fully intending to answer. However, the answer she was preparing doesn't come. Instead, she finds herself gazing at yet another interesting traveler who walks down the middle of the earthen street. A mysterious man who wears a black cloak spotted by red clouds and a straw hat that shadows his face. She can that tell he is a man in spite of his concealed features, as he saunters in a fashion that is precisely masculine. He moves slowly yet commandingly, as if fully aware that his presence is something formidable.

Due to his odd taste in dress, the fact that he is concealing his features, and his overall lethal countenance, Kaminari knows that she should be quivering fearfully. However, she doesn't. Instead she gapes at him as if trapped in a hypnotic state, a brand of curiosity overtaking her that she hasn't quite felt before. Truth be told, he looks dangerous; like a  _criminal_.

Though she is much farther away from the window than Kaminari, it is apparent that Fuji sees him too, as she unleashes a deafening gasp. There is no denying that the woman is frightened, because it takes less than two seconds for her to rush over to the younger girl and grab her tan-colored sleeve. Once her grip is secure, Fuji drags Kaminari from her place in front of the window to an area safely behind the shop's counter. From here, they are both forced into a crouching position. Only after they're out of the sight of the windows does Fuji speak. The woman sounds terrified.

"No. No, no, no, no, no, no! This isn't happening! Why would one of them come  _here_? To  _our_  village?!"

Raising a brow, Kaminari can't help but stare at her oddly. "Fuji? What's wrong? I've never seen you act this jumpy! Normally you're so calm!"

Placing a hand over her mouth, Fuji replies in only the quietest of whispers. Even so, the girl is able to make out what the woman says.

"Kaminari, listen to me, and listen closely. There are some travelers that you  _ **don't**_ want to interact with, and this guy is one of them. You see the cloak that he's wearing? Anyone who wears a cloak like his is part of the Akatsuki. The Akatsuki is an organization of S-rank criminals who will destroy anyone or anything that gets in their way. They murder people, Kaminari, and they  _enjoy it_. If you go near him, you're signing your own death certificate." Giving a sigh of mingled fear and desperation, she continues, "Before we come out from behind this counter to continue our work day, you aren't allowed to talk to him, look at him, or even  _ **think**_  about him. Do you understand?"

Breaking free from Fuji's grasp, Kaminari gets on her knees to peer over the counter. The man continues sauntering down the street, his black cloak with the red clouds blowing slightly in the breeze as well as the tassels on his straw hat. With the information that has been attained, he appears far deadlier than previous.

Turning by mere centimeters so that he faces their shop at a different angle, the girl catches sight of the minimal blonde strands that break free from his cloak. They, too, are ruffled by the gentle breeze. She gets a small glimpse beneath the rim of his hat, noticing a slim nose and the shadow of a smirk. Similar to the rest of his appearance, the smirk is one that appears dangerous and mysterious. Yet, it also contains a hint of smugness, which Kaminari finds oddly  _alluring_.

It takes several seconds, but at last the girl responds to her coworker. Though she speaks these words with her mouth, Kaminari doesn't feel that she truly means them. For some reason, as strange as it is, it almost feels like she's betraying herself.

"I understand, Fuji. I won't go near him."

* * *

Traveling the shinobi nations as a member of the Akatsuki has been an interesting experience for Deidara. In some villages, nobody gives him or Sasori a second glance. People pass them by nonchalantly, not knowing who they are or having any inkling that they should be afraid. In other villages, however, Deidara finds it surprising that warning sirens don't blare and that the entire populace doesn't head toward the town panic shelter. The village that he is in currently, one that he has been to frequently though never as an Akatsuki, would be the latter type of village.

The blonde-haired boy makes his way down the center of the earthen street; a street that he has traveled down multiple times. A minute prior, everything was bustling. People were walking in and out of shops, children were playing, and friends were greeting each other. Then, the instant his cloak came into view, he was gawked at in shock previous to every breathing organism dashing inside the nearest building. Generally, Deidara doesn't mind this. It makes him feel overwhelmingly powerful to have so many react this way to his presence. Not to mention that it amuses him. If this town was actually one of his targets and not his clay supplier, do they honestly think that hiding would stop him from killing them? It's a ridiculous notion, really.

Right now, however, Deidara doesn't feel the amusement that he has grown accustom to. Rather, his only emotion is aggravation. All he wanted to do was purchase his clay, like always, and leave. If every shop has barred their doors, then how is he supposed to buy his detonating clay? Giving a weighted sigh at this pesky thought, Deidara shoves it aside and continues onward toward the necessary shop. Hopefully the doors are open, and if not, he will solve this dilemma once it arrives.

Knowing the shop's exact location, as he has been there on several dozen occasions, it only takes him two minutes to reach it and glimpse inside through the window. Though the civilians are certain that he can't see them, Deidara is fully aware that three people are behind the counter and that others are hiding amongst item-filled shelves. Even from outside he can hear them quivering and smell their fear. Rolling cobalt eyes, the bomber gives an irritated grunt as he reaches for the clay shop's door handle.

"This is ridiculous, un. If I wanted to blow up their town, I wouldn't go to their store and buy their clay first."

Giving the door handle a harsh tug, he is hoping to saunter inside without difficulty. When the door doesn't budge in the tiniest increment, however, Deidara knows that going inside won't be so easy. Groaning, he tugs on it several more times before unleashing an enraged shout. Having gone into the shop so frequently in the past that he knows the shopkeeper's name, hers is the name that he calls. Even if she was a mile away, he is certain that she would still hear.

"Aimi, open the door, un! I'm not here to kill anyone if that's what you're thinking, un! I just want to buy my clay so I can leave! Now let me in and give it to me!"

Gazing through the window yet again, Deidara catches sight of a pudgy, gray-haired, woman standing up from behind the counter. Her appearance seems harmless, but she bellows back with bile.

"No! You're not coming in here, Akatsuki! Over my dead body will I let your kind into my store!"

For the second time in only a minute, the boy rolls his eyes. He didn't want to do this, especially considering how he is supposed to be hiding his identity, but Deidara releases the door handle and reaches a hand toward the tasseled hat. He removes it from his head in one swift motion, using the other to untuck his hair from the cloak so that flaxen tresses hang freely. Facing the window once more with his features in full view, the boy shoots the lady a livid glare.

"It's me, Aimi! _Deidara_ , un! I've been into your store more times than you can count! I've bought more than twenty times my weight in clay from you! We know each other, un! Now let me in!"

The gray-haired woman doesn't lower herself behind the counter again, yet she doesn't move closer to the door either. She simply stands in place, gaping. Crossing his arms over his chest, he stares back at her in blunt annoyance. It takes a long moment, but at last she speaks.

"D-Deidara?"

Cerulean eyes narrowing, his aggravation never diminishes. "Yes. I'm not a ghost, a woman, or a tax collector, un. I'm  _Deidara_." Giving a pained sigh, he commands, "Now let me in, un!"

The woman studies him for a moment longer. Finally, she comes out from behind the counter to amble toward the door. Two young ladies peek out from behind the counter while other individuals poke their heads out from amongst shelves, each of them calling out warnings. Most of these warnings consist of  _"Don't do it!"_  and  _"He's an Akatsuki!"_ , but nonetheless, their suggestions of caution go ignored. Upon reaching the door Aimi doesn't open it immediately, but instead, gazes at Deidara through the window while making a befuddled inquiry.

"Deidara boy, since when are you involved with the Akatsuki? They're criminals. You shouldn't be involved with people like them."

Eyes narrowing once more, he sighs. "Does it matter if I'm involved with the Akatsuki? You've sold me your clay before, and I never made any moves to destroy Chouwa, un. Now let me in. I want to buy my clay and get out of here, un."

Uncertainty is on Aimi's face, though it eventually vanishes. Giving a small smile, she unlatches the door and shoves it open. The whole time she does this, Deidara releases a breath of alleviation.

"Finally. It's about time, un."

Stepping closer to the door, the bomber is prepared to place his hat back on his head prior to going inside. To both his surprise and aggravation, however, entering the clay shop never happens. Instead, before he can move another inch, a man dashes out from behind a set of shelves. The blink of an eye is all it takes for him to cover the space between the shelves and the door, making it outside just in time to roughly shove Deidara away from the entrance.

Not expecting such a bold move from one of the villagers, the boy finds himself reeling backwards and stumbling toward the wooden wall on the door's opposite side. He doesn't notice, most likely because he is still taken aback, but the majority of Deidara's blonde tresses are becoming entangled in the crack near the hinges where the door comes open. Trying to catch his balance, Deidara allows the hat to fall to the ground while holding his arms out to the side. Oddly enough, due to the angle he's standing at, the boy can reach the wooden walls perfectly fine, but is out of reach of the door.

Meanwhile, the man utters bitter words. "You're not coming into this store, Akatsuki, no matter what Aimi says. You're still a criminal."

With that said, the man shoves the gray-haired woman aside, slams the door shut, and locks it firmly. Feeling more than a tad peeved at this occurrence, Deidara is fully inclined to stand straight up, bang on the door, and demand to be let inside. It is only too sad that the instant he takes the first step to doing this, straightening his posture, he discovers a slight dilemma. No matter how hard Deidara tries, he can't stand up any straighter. To the boy's terror, his lengthy blonde tresses are trapped in the door's hinges, and with the door closed, the odds of his hair coming free with a simple pull are slim to none.

Anxiety visible across Deidara's features, he gives his hair several hard tugs, feeling the horrible sensation of blonde roots yanking at his skull. The boy pulls on his hair for twenty straight minutes, hoping that even if he comes out of this unpleasant situation with shorter hair and split ends, that he can at least find freedom. It is only too sad that not a single strand of hair comes loose. As this happens, Deidara comes to a mournful realization. Unless someone shows up with some pliers or a screwdriver, he is completely trapped.

* * *

The floor beside the candy shop's front window has never been cleaner. This isn't necessarily due to a lack of customer's entering the store, but rather because Kaminari has been sweeping that spot off and on throughout the entire day. Some of her time is spent organizing candies in the glass display case and some talking to customers, but the rest is spent in front of the window. She does her best to use the broom as an excuse, but Kaminari is well aware that Fuji is not a fool. It was evident from the start that the woman would catch on to what she is doing. Kaminari was just hoping that she wouldn't catch on so soon.

"Kaminari, get away from the window.  _ **Now.**_  You've been sweeping that part of the floor all day. It has to be clean by now."

Fuji doesn't say it outright, but then again, she doesn't have to. Kaminari can hear in her voice's tone the exact words she wants to say, but hasn't spoken. Her tone is so blunt that even the surrounding customers understand, as they glance straight past Kaminari and out the window. By this point every person in the candy shop is staring across the street at the scene. In her fourteen years as a citizen of Chouwa, Kaminari has never seen a sight quite like this one…

"Hey, what are you doing walking past me like that?! Get over here and help me, un! I've been stuck like this for _three hours_! If somebody doesn't help me soon, I might as well take up citizenship and live here, un!"

One of the shop's customers mumbles frightenedly at the blonde-haired boy's statement. "My goodness, I hope he doesn't mean that. We can't have an Akatsuki living in Chouwa!"

Her eyes never leaving the window, Kaminari's brow furrows in disgust at the person's words. As odd as it might seem, she was able to recognize the cloaked boy the moment he removed the hat. Though Kaminari has never spoken with him personally, as he has never approached the candy shop even once, she has still seen him enough to know that he frequents their village.

The girl has been working at this shop for a year, and once a month she will see the blonde boy walk into the clay shop across the street. Every time he leaves as fast as he appears, massive quantities of clay in tow. She might not know the boy's name or anything else, but she does know that every time he has come into their village before he has never made a single move to hurt anyone. So how the heck does the cloak with the clouds make any difference? Underneath the cloak he's still the same person, right? Honestly. The people in this town are so confusing to Kaminari.

As she observes, Kaminari sees as a man in his early thirties scampers past the boy without making eye contact, as if afraid that looking him in the face could turn him to stone. The entire time the boy glares at the man with livid blue eyes, his body turned in an awkward position due to the angle his hair is stuck at. Such long, beautiful tresses being tangled up in door hinges? Kaminari can only imagine how painful that must be! She got her own hair stuck in a cupboard door once, and that was far from a pleasant experience. Her scalp still hurts her just thinking about it!

While having these thoughts, she can't help but observe his features closely. When he was wearing the straw hat, she must admit that he looked dangerous; like a dark criminal who was capable of unimaginable horror. Of course, as she looks at him again now that his face is revealed, the boy doesn't look quite as dangerous as before. His narrow chin and jawline, straight-lipped mouth, golden hair and slanted blue eyes… Admittedly, he is rather good looking. True, with the length and thickness of his hair, the fact that he isn't muscular, along with the fact that he isn't overly tall, the boy is a bit on the feminine side. Nonetheless, he has masculine qualities. His voice, facial expressions, and posture being a few of them.

Apparently Kaminari takes too long obeying Fuji's orders, because the woman is shouting once more. This time she says what she didn't say earlier, unveiling the extent of her fury.

"That's it, Kaminari! You're done with sweeping for the day! If you can't ignore the drama that's going on with that Akatsuki outside, then you're working the register."

For the first time in what feels like ages, Kaminari turns to face her. The woman has never appeared more enraged than she does right now. Yet, this doesn't bother Kaminari. Instead, making her way past the customers and to the counter where Fuji stands, the girl makes a statement.

"Fuji, I know I said that I wouldn't go near him, but I really,  _really_  think that I should. The guy has been stuck there forever! If everybody wants him gone so bad, then why won't anyone help him so he can leave? I heard him tell Aimi that he wants to buy his clay so he can leave of the village!"

Slapping a palm to her forehead, Fuji scowls. "What the heck are you talking like this for? Haven't I been telling you all day not to go near him? He's an Akatsuki, and he's dangerous!"

Frowning, Kaminari glances back outside. The boy is no longer shouting at passersby, but is instead tugging ruthlessly at his flaxen locks. He appears ready to tear his hair out by the roots, and all of this is because nobody will help him!

Brow furrowed thoughtfully, she faces Fuji once more. "Who knows? Maybe he isn't as dangerous as we think. Everybody ran and hid when he first entered the village, then Aimi wouldn't sell him any clay, and now nobody is helping the guy get his hair unstuck from the door. We could be the ones making act him dangerous because we're being so mean!"

Releasing a groan, Fuji hits herself in the head several times using her palm. "Kaminari, I have never heard anything more ridiculous in my life! The man is criminal! He can't be trusted!"

Her brow never comes unfurrowed. " _Man_? He isn't a  _man_. He can't be any older than me!"

"That doesn't matter," Fuji retorts. "He might be your age, but that doesn't mean he's innocent like you are. Again, I'm telling you to stay away."

Kaminari is gazing across the street at the clay shop again by this point. He is tugging harshly on his hair the same as he was a second ago. The only difference is that this time a boy around the age of ten scurries past. Laughing mockingly, the boy tosses a raw egg in his direction, which hits the Akatsuki in the middle of the left cheek. Once the egg makes contact, the ten-year-old sprints down the street while shouting.

"Ha! Take that, nasty criminal! You're going to be stuck like that forever!"

Growling, said criminal calls after the child angrily. "I dare you to do that to me once I'm free, you brat! I'd like to see you face me then, un!"

The sight of egg dripping down his face is all it takes for Kaminari to make up her mind. She knows that she shouldn't, and all day she has been telling herself that she wouldn't, but the girl can no longer hold back. Determination filling her grass green orbs, Kaminari shoves her broom and apron toward Fuji, clenches her fists at her sides, and leaps in the direction of the candy shop's exit. Kaminari doesn't see it, but Fuji's eyes widen. As do the eyes of the customers.

"Kaminari, get back here! Where do you think you're going?!" Fuji inquires loudly.

The girl responds without looking back. "I'm going home and getting my trusty screwdriver!"

Their eyes widening farther, every individual in the shop begins protesting. Even so, none of their warnings reach Kaminari. The girl is already out the door and sprinting down the road.

* * *

Wearing a heinous scowl, Deidara raises a hand and does his best to wipe the sticky remnants of egg off his cheek. He can't decide which emotion is stronger, indignation or degradation. The boy is a member of the Akatsuki, a feared organization of S-rank criminals who are known as the world's strongest equivalent to evil. Yet, where has he been for the past three hours? In some isolated, backwoods, village with his hair stuck in the hinges of a clay shop door. In his fourteen years, Deidara honestly can't think of anything more humiliating. The only good thing about this is that none of the other Akatsuki are around. If Sasori, Hidan, or Kisame saw him in this sorry state, they would never let him live it down. Seeing him like this might even give Itachi a few chuckles!

Releasing a perturbed sigh, Deidara looks up and down the dirt street from his awkward position for quite possibly the thousandth time that day. Like most other times his eyes have scanned the area, nobody is near. Of course, even if there was someone near, Deidara is certain that it wouldn't change a thing. Whoever walks by never stops to help. At this rate, he is going to be stuck here all week! Sighing yet again, the boy does something that he has never done before. He does it while narrowing his eyes bitterly and groaning in disbelief, but nevertheless, he does it.

Looking up and down the street once more prior to rolling his eyes, Deidara leans his head against the wall. As he speaks he winces, as if in physical pain.

"Jashin, I never talk to you, un. I think your servant, Hidan, is insane, and I honestly don't think you're real, but for some reason I'm talking to you anyway. If I'm wrong and you  _are_ real, please get me out of this, un! I don't care who you send or how you do it, just get someone to help me, un!"

Approximately ten seconds passes silently, leading Deidara to believe that he just wasted breath. However, it doesn't stay silent for long. He isn't sure how he didn't spot such a conspicuous individual crossing the street, neither is Deidara aware of how her perky footsteps missed his attention, but suddenly, there is person standing directly in front of him. The boy doesn't get time to take in her features. Before he knows it he is being strangled around the waist, the girl talking at an impossible speed. Her voice is as high-pitched and feminine as he has ever heard.

"Oh gosh! Poor Akatsuki guy! You've been stuck here forever! You must be so frustrated and grumpy, and your scalp must be so sore! Don't worry. I only live thirty houses away from here, so I'll be right back with a screwdriver!"

The girl releases him almost as quickly as she grabbed on, dashing down the street faster than a small child who'd finished dining on cake. Deidara doesn't say a word. He stares after her retreating form while wearing a frown of shock, trying to process what just happened. Did Hidan's deity just answer his prayer?

Cobalt eyes widening, Deidara glances toward the sky in Jashin's direction. Then, after taking a moment to reconsider, the flaxen-haired bomber shifts his gaze to the ground. The entire time he arches a bemused brow.

"Uh...thanks? I'll never doubt you again, un."

Once this is said, Deidara settles against the wooden wall as comfortably as possible in his current condition. Hopefully that girl was serious about helping and wasn't pranking him. Considering how she said that she lives thirty houses away and also claimed that she will be _"right back",_ this is distinct possibility. Not to mention that she seems a bit over-the-top to begin with...

Before Deidara can take more than fifteen minutes to contemplate that the girl might not come back, however, the unbelievable happens. Scurrying up the earthen road toward him, coming from the exact direction that she retreated in, is none other than the perky girl. Now that she is at a distance rather than on top of him, Deidara sees that she is tall, has thick black hair tied into a high ponytail, and has bulging eyes the color of grass. The girl's skin is pale, her clothes are simple, and her grin is abnormally large. Normally the blonde prefers avoiding people like her, but considering the screwdriver in her hand, he doesn't mind tolerating a peppy, overbearing, female just this once.

It is a good thing that he took advantage of the temporary distance between them to observe her features, because only thirty seconds later she is unbearably close. The girl isn't hugging him around the waist in sympathy like she was previously, but rather, she is standing in the one-foot gap of space between him and door. She goes at the hinges with the screwdriver vigorously, moving his hair out of the way to deal with the screws accordingly. The fact that the girl is touching his hair so freely definitely isn't something that sits well with Deidara. Of course, with the annoying echoing of her voice as she chatters away a mile a minute, the fact that his hair is being touched is forgotten.

"I'm so sorry about how bad your day must have gone! You didn't get your clay, you've been stuck in this door for hours, and nobody will help you because they're afraid of your cloak. Not to mention that you must've had a super long walk here. Chouwa isn't an easy place to get to, so I know that the hike through the woods must've been exhausting!" Giving a friendly, sugar-coated, giggle, she continues. "I think it's silly that nobody would help you. You've been to Chouwa dozens of times before today, and you never hurt anybody. Just because you're wearing the bad guy cloak now shouldn't make a difference. You like our clay, and we should let you buy it!"

The girl sounds so lively as she talks to him that it makes Deidara wonder if she is truly adept with that screwdriver. At a first glance she looks as old as fourteen, but with the way she is addressing him, she sounds like an eight-year-old who just met a new playmate. If the girl is doing more talking than focusing, she could easily slip with the tool and stab one of them by accident. If this happens, hopefully it's her, of course.

It is only while having these thoughts that either Jashin or the universe decides to prove him wrong. A minute is all it takes for her to remove the hinges, the wooden door coming free and clattering to the ground. When door is freed, much to Deidara's relief, his lengthy golden tresses are completely untangled. Sure, his hair appears a bit ruffled and his ends are doubtlessly split, but he is no longer trapped. Following three hours of imprisonment, no longer being attached to the door is all that matters to the blonde.

Running a hand over his tresses and inspecting them with a grateful smirk, Deidara turns his gaze to the girl.

"Thanks a lot. You have my gratitude. If I ever run into you anywhere, I promise not to blow you up because of this, un."

Every person Deidara has met scampers away in terror at the very mention of his bombs. Now that he's free, he figured that talk of explosions is what would convince her to run away as well. True, he really is happy for her assistance, but another second of her bouncing and rapid speech, and Deidara is certain that his frustration will grow intolerable.

Astonishingly enough, however, the girl doesn't appear frightened in the slightest. For whatever reason, she does not flee. Instead, she responds eagerly.

"Thanks! After ditching my job to help you, not blowing me up is really nice of you!" Stepping so that she is directly in front of him, the girl juts out a hand. "My name is Kaminari! Who are you?"

Smirk vanishing, Deidara steps around her outstretched hand in an apathetic manner. This girl,  _"Kaminari"_ , doesn't realize it, but she and her screwdriver helped him in more ways than one. Not only did it free the boy's hair from the door's hinges, but it left a gaping entrance into the clay shop that the store's employees will never have time to block off. After an excruciatingly long day, it looks like he finally has an opportunity to get his clay. The last thing he wants is to waste time making small talk.

Yet, even as he walks past her, Deidara finds it in him to answer. Although, his answer to her question probably isn't the thing she was hoping for.

" _I_ am a guy who wants to buy my clay so I can get out of this backwoods settlement that you call a village, un. I have places to go and things to do, so standing here chatting with you isn't an option."

He moves fully past her upon making this statement, hoping that she will catch his hint and move on. The boy has already stepped through the gap in the door and into the clay shop, prepared to demand every solitary ounce of detonating clay that he needs. With the nightmare he has gone through this afternoon, Aimi and her employees owe it to him. The gray-haired lady and the store workers are standing in front of the counter shuddering, too, so Deidara is already aware that getting his hands on more detonating clay is going to be an easy feat.

All of a sudden, however, Deidara feels a sharp tug on the sleeve of his cloak. Caught very off guard by this, he whips around to see a pair of bright, grass-green, orbs. Normally the eyes that stare at him are filled with terror. It is because of this that the wonder in her gaze catches him so by surprise that he almost flinches at the sight of her.

"You said that you have places to go and things to do? What kind of places do you travel to? You're in and out of Chouwa a lot, and when you come you don't stay for long, so you must go to a lot of places!" Pausing slightly, she asks with a bit more hesitation, "I don't want to distract you from whatever schedule you have to keep up with, but can I at least talk to you until you buy your clay and make it to the edge of Chouwa? I've never met anybody as young as me who travels so much. You have to tell me about one of the places you've been to! Please? Just one!"

Giving a glance to the store workers, who are watching the two of them in something akin to disbelief, Deidara exhales in exasperation. What the heck is the matter with this girl? Is she stupid? He's a dangerous, S-rank, criminal, and she's asking to hear travel stories from him!

After exhaling, Deidara takes a deep breath in attempt to re-center himself. As stupid as she is, she can't be  _that_  stupid. Sure she's following him around right now, but after hearing a travel story and figuring out how deadly he is, the girl will run away panicking and never speak to him again. True, the boy could take the easy way out and blow her up, but Chouwa is afraid as it is. If he blows up one of their citizens, then they'll  _never_  sell him their clay! So, because of this potential repercussion for the preferred course of action, it looks like Deidara will have to choose the latter plan.

Giving a groan of displeasure, Deidara pulls his sleeve out of her grasp and makes his way toward the clay shop's employees. As he does this Kaminari never ceases in following, and Deidara doesn't cease in giving her his answer. Though, it isn't a lie that his response to her question sounds less than pleasant.

"Fine. Because you're the single person in this  _entire village_ who was willing to take one minute out of your day to help me, you can follow me to the edge of Chouwa. But you only get one travel story, and once I'm gone, _I'm gone,_  and you can't follow me."

Though he isn't facing Kaminari, he can practically hear the joy radiating from her in waves. "Really? Oh, thank you, thank you, thank you! You have no idea how happy I am!"

Sighing, Deidara grumbles internally.  _"Trust me, idiot girl. I know_ _ **exactly**_ _how happy you are."_


	2. Chapter Two

_Disclaimer: I do not own Naruto_

* * *

**Chapter Two**

Kaminari bounces with joy, half skipping and half walking alongside the blonde-haired boy. She still doesn't know his name, how old he is, or any other types of crucial identifiers. Even so, this doesn't mean that she hasn't been able to figure out some of these things through guesswork. One thing she guessed at was his nation of origin, the shinobi headband from Iwagakure being a good indicator. Sure his village's symbol is crossed out, but the fact that he used to live there is plenty for Kaminari. The idea that he was an Iwa ninja and that he most likely defected from his village helps her fill in some essential gaps.

Using this single piece of information that she obtained, Kaminari does her best to learn more. The additional information, of course, is being gained through questioning. Kaminari doesn't miss his annoyed scowl as she jabbers at him, but she does her best to pretend that it isn't there. After all, if she keeps asking questions, he is obligated answer at some point.

"Come on!  _Please_  tell me? You have to tell me what Iwagakure is like! Even if you don't live there now, I can tell by your headband that you used to!" Kaminari, who had been beside him until now, moves so that she is directly in front of him. Walking backwards up the path as she faces the flaxen-haired ninja, she continues. "I can tell by the slash that you left Iwa, too, which is pretty surprising. How old are you, fourteen or fifteen? If you're this age now, and you've been coming through Chouwa wearing that same headband for the past year, then you must have been young when you left! Were you eleven, twelve, or thirteen? I'd stake money on it that you were twelve!"

The boy glares at her in frustration, doing his best to step around her energetic form. As he does this, Kaminari hops into his path of travel every time, effectively blocking him. This elicits a groan.

"You ask way too many questions. What are you so interested in me for, anyway? You should stay away like the other villagers. It would benefit both of us, un."

While he appears truly annoyed, Kaminari notes that he also wears an expression of bewildered curiosity. Catching the miniscule traces of interest that he attempts hiding, Kaminari's grin widens. Suddenly, getting answers seems more hopeful. Shifting, she is now skipping alongside him once more. They are currently walking through the residential area of Chouwa, and people are gawking out their windows at them in shock, but Kaminari doesn't care. Instead, she replies to the boy.

"Stay away from you? Why would I do that?! You're a ninja and you're from Iwagakure! Even if I see people who are from hidden villages, they don't normally talk to me. I almost never get to meet ninjas! I  _have_ to talk to you!"

As she speaks, he adjusts massive cases of clay so that they sit in his arms more comfortably. He blows pale bangs out of his face while rolling cobalt eyes.

"Fine. If it will get you to shut up and stop asking me questions, your guess was right, un. I defected from Iwa when I was twelve. I'm fourteen now, so I've been rouge for a couple of years. If you want to know what the Stone Village is like, there are rocks, mountains, the people are tough, and the bakudan is great. Does that satisfy you?"

Smiling, Kaminari nods eagerly. "It does for now."

Silence falls for several minutes following this, the boy lugging his clay while wearing an apathetic frown. Kaminari retains her perky stride the whole time. Peeking back over at him, she speaks again a second later.

"Do you want any help carrying your clay? It looks heavy."

" _ **No**_ , un."

Quietude wafts through the air yet again. His response to her offer was unnervingly blunt, so Kaminari doesn't ask a second time. More than a minute passes, but eventually she asks another question. It is simple and unrelated to her previous inquiries, but is still found irksome nonetheless.

"What's your name? You're a ninja from Iwa, so your name must be amazing!"

His frown deviates from apathy to aggravation. "Imagine that all you want, but my name  _ **isn't**_ amazing, and I'm not about to give it away, un. I don't know about you, but if there's one thing that my caretakers taught me as a child, it's never give too much information away to strangers."

Upon hearing his response, Kaminari frowns in disappointment. When she speaks, her frown morphs into something more similar to a pout.

"You seriously aren't telling me your name? I told you my name! That has to count for something!" Pausing, she begs, "Please tell me your name? I  _have_  to know!"

Kaminari doesn't realize it, but much to the blonde bomber's relief, they have finally reached the edge of Chouwa. The last of the houses passed them by ages ago, leaving nothing but endless grasses engulfing them and thick forestry several meters away. She stares him down with pleading eyes, hoping desperately that he will give in and tell her his name. Unfortunately, this doesn't happen. Instead, drinking in the sight of their surroundings, he replies sounding relieved.

"No. You  _don't_  have to know, and I'm not telling you, either. This is the edge of the village, our deal is done, and I'm leaving, un. Next time I come to Chouwa, hopefully our paths don't cross."

Once the words are spoken, the blonde turns around and begins sauntering in the direction of the forest. Sighing, Kaminari doesn't say anything more. Neither does she follow. Instead she stares after him until he reaches the foliage, watches as he makes his way down the trail, and continues watching until his figure disappears completely. She can't help but feel a pang of discouragement. This really didn't go as well as she wanted it to.

Yet, despite her sadness, Kaminari can't help feeling that she will see him again. She doesn't know if it is the universe whispering its secrets into her ear or if the feeling is intuition, but the girl knows that this isn't over.

* * *

_Four Days Later_

Somehow, even after his ordeal in Chouwa, Deidara managed to make it to the main hideout exactly in the timeframe that he claimed he would make it in. The trip only took two days, and somehow he actually managed to get there before Sasori. The flaxen-haired shinobi had a day-and-a-half to eat, take a thorough shower, rest up, and then Sasori arrived and they were back on the road.

Honestly, Deidara is glad that Leader Pein gave them another mission so quickly after the previous. Getting a chance to show off his art, fight enemy targets, and see some bloodshed will get his mind out of that backwoods village. As strange as it is, even if he is physically gone from that town, it's as if Deidara's mind has never left. It isn't the boy's anger over what he went through for the clay or the fact that his hair got stuck in the door that keeps it there. For some reason, his mind keeps wandering back to that  _girl_.

Out of all the people Deidara has met, he has never met anyone like her. Even when he lived in Iwagakure, there was never anybody so  _eager_  to help him. Honestly, if the same thing happened to Deidara in his childhood home that happened in Chouwa, he is certain that he would have gotten an equivalent response; nobody would have come to his rescue.

So, if every breathing creature in the shinobi nations would have passed him by, then why didn't she? What makes _Kaminari_ act differently?

Upon processing that last thought, Deidara flinches while grumbling internally.  _"Wow. I actually remember her name? I honestly didn't see that coming. She got to me more than I thought, un."_

His mind starting to wander toward murky and unwanted places, Deidara takes a deep breath to re-center his thoughts.

Alright. So what if Kaminari got to him? This doesn't mean anything significant. The girl is so perky and over-the-top that it would be impossible  _ **not**_  to think about her. Deidara is certain that the majority people go their entire lives without meeting a person like Kaminari, mostly because people like her aren't supposed to exist. So, when someone like her is proven to be real, how is one supposed to handle it?

Luckily, Deidara has this answer.  _Avoid her_. The next time he goes to Chouwa to buy more detonating clay, he plans on avoiding the girl at all costs. Kaminari is abnormally happy, she has probably been diagnosed as clinically insane for her willingness to interact with known criminals, and if they meet again, she drives him so crazy that he will most likely end up using a bomb on her. Because of this, it is blindingly apparent that staying away from her is the best course of action.

He is completely restocked on detonating clay now, and fortunately, has a month until he is required purchase more. The missions that they will be going on can't possibly be  _that_ extreme. How much clay can he possibly use?

Suddenly, as if hearing his silent words, Sasori speaks from beside Deidara. They are currently weaving their way through foliage, having crossed over into the Land of Fire a short while ago. Their target is a group of three shinobi from Otogakure who are rumored to be disciples of Orochimaru. Leader Pein made it exceedingly clear before they left that he wants them taken out before they can receive any further training from their master.

Sasori's response to his orders was nothing short of firm compliance while Deidara smirked in arrogance. All they have to do is take out a few weakling minions of some creepy snake? Even now the task sounds effortless. They don't even have to go as far as one of Orochimaru's hideouts to accomplish this mission. The duo is journeying to one of his outposts near the Land of Fire's border. If these minions are so inferior that they are not wanted near the main hideout, then this will certainly be an easy mission.

Meanwhile, as these thoughts run through his head, Deidara glances at Sasori. As always, his voice is deep and serious, not an ounce of lightheartedness to be heard. Also like usual, Sasori doesn't say much. He keeps his statement simple.

"It's a good thing that you bought a lot of clay, Deidara, because this could be one of the most difficult missions that you go on."

Smirking, the blonde gives an easy shrug. "Say what you want, Sasori my man, but I probably won't go through half of my detonating clay. Orochimaru gets far too much credit if you ask me, un. I'm sure that taking out a few of his followers won't be nearly as difficult as Leader Pein claims."

Sasori's response is a grunt of disapproval. "Once we reach our targets, hopefully you're more tactical and less reckless. We can't afford to have you act foolishly and jeopardize our mission."

"I won't jeopardize anything, so don't worry about it, un," Deidara replies with his smirk never fading. "It's rare that I run into an enemy that my art can't handle."

* * *

Throughout the past several days, the village's entire atmosphere has changed. Much to Kaminari's dismay, this shift doesn't seem to be directed at the blonde-haired Akatsuki. More or less, it seems pointed at  _her_ , as if Chouwa's other inhabitants have labeled her a trader of the most severe sort. Kaminari does her best to smile, remain happy, and bear it. She brought this on herself, after all. Yet, even for someone like her, there is only so much coldness that a person can take. On this fourth day of what feels like the girl's shunning, this is a proven fact.

With medium-length hair styled into its usual ponytail and a dark green, kimono-style, dress adorned neatly, Kaminari focuses all her attention on arranging candies in the display case. She moves swiftly like always, the cuffs of her brown pants narrowly missing brushing the floor. The girl sports a smile as she goes about her daily tasks at the candy shop, doing her best to appear content. Of course, Kaminari's smile doesn't reach her eyes. Those standing across the room make sure of this.

Loitering just inside of the shop's entrance are three girls. They appear around the same age as Kaminari and are dressed similarly. None of them are strangers to Kaminari. She knows each of them by name, as they played together as children. Yet, with the way the trio glares at her, one would think that the girls are bitter enemies.

Arranging blue clumps of rock candy decoratively, the raven-haired adolescent keeps her gaze aimed away from them. Even so, their harsh whispers reach much farther than they know. They echo through her ears and strike her painfully in the soul. Deep down Kaminari has always known that they feel this way about her. She could sense it from the time they were children. Yet, hearing her suspicions confirmed hurts more than she ever imagined it would.

The girl standing in the center of the group, a brunette, whispers first. Bile is heard in her tone.

"There she is, ladies. Skipping around the store as naïve and bubbly as ever. I knew she was an airhead before, but giving a hug to an Akatsuki, rescuing him, and following him to the edge of the village? What an idiot!"

"I know," whispers the girl to the brunette's right. "Kaminari has always been an idiot, but this? She's basically betraying our village by helping this guy, and she doesn't even care! I don't think that she's going against Chouwa on purpose, though. I really do think that she's just too dumb to realize it."

The one on the brunette's left is the next to share her thoughts. "Yeah, but what else should we expect from Kaminari? She's a ditz who's stuck in her own little pretend world. Wherever Kaminari's brain is at, danger doesn't exist. So of course she helped that Akatsuki! In her head, he isn't a threat. He's  _'a new friend'_."

Sighing, the previous girl on the right speaks again. "I wish everybody else could see that Kaminari's stupid and not a traitor like we can. Just because she's a moron doesn't mean that she should have to pay for it."

Doing her best to keep her cheerful grin intact, Kaminari adjusts the apron strings tied around her waist as a distraction. Inhaling deeply through her nostrils, it takes every ounce of strength to keep tears at bay. An airhead. An idiot. Ditzy. She always knew that her friends thought that about her. So why does it hurt so much?

Kaminari takes another deep breath, but it is no use. Despite her best efforts, the salty liquid is ready to spill over. Thankfully, this doesn't have time to occur. A second later, a voice sounds off from another part of the candy shop. This voice belongs to none other than her short, chocolate-eyed, coworker. A broom in hand, she rushes toward them while using said object to shoo them outside.

"Enough! The three of you get out of my uncle's shop! If you're not going to buy anything, then scram! Get lost!"

Their eyes widening at the sight of the small, feisty, woman, the trio dashes for the exit without protest. Even so, this doesn't mean that they don't get in one last remark. Specifically, the person who gets in her few final words is the brunette.

"You can kick us out all you want to, Fuji, but Kaminari knows exactly what we're talking about." She glowers at the green-eyed one in the room. "I hope that your Akatsuki bad boy comes back for you, and when you go with him, I hope that one day you'll realize what a fool you are."

Much to Kaminari's relief, they're out the door before they can say anything more. She doesn't know how she managed it, but somehow not a single tear escaped. It is only once the trio is down the street and out of sight that Kaminari finally gains enough strength to look around the room. Her false grin morphing into something resembling a grateful smile, she speaks to the woman while turning away from the shop's exit to face her.

"Thanks for that, Fuji. If you didn't kick them out, I don't know what I would've done."

Though it saddens Kaminari, Fuji doesn't return her smile. Of course, it doesn't surprise her, either. Like every other person in Chouwa, she hasn't smiled at her in days. Rather, the woman wears a disappointed frown. It takes an eternity of silence, but at long last, Fuji responds.

"I'm sorry, Kaminari, but I want you out of here, too. I talked with my uncle this afternoon, and he's firing you." Pausing, she gives a weighted sigh. "It's nothing personal, but…you know… The girl that helped the Akatsuki working as an employee at our shop? It's bad for business. Four days have passed, and we're barely making a profit aside from a traveler or two. You understand."

Any sort of happiness that had been forming is snuffed out like a flickering candle on a stormy night. If she didn't cry previously, then she certainly wants to now. Yet, she manages to keep her sorrow carefully hidden. Taking a large gulp of air, the girl nods in understanding. A moment later her apron is removed and is laying atop the glass display case containing the rock candy. Kaminari doesn't respond to Fuji. The woman calls after her, but Kaminari doesn't listen. She saunters out of the candy shop without looking back.

People walking down the street opposite her send brutal glares, and others shout insults, but Kaminari neither hears nor sees them. Her only focus is on making the lengthy trek home. Upon reaching her place of residence, the empty rooms don't faze her, nor does the deafening silence. A mother and siblings are nonexistent, and her father is often away. Every evening when the girl returns she despises her home, but for the first time in ages, she welcomes it like an embrace. After all, this is the only place in the world where Kaminari allows herself to feel the agony of despair.

The instant she makes the journey through the living room, up the never-ending flight of stairs, and into her bedroom, Kaminari collapses into bed. Finally, with fists grasping at the covers and face buried in the soft pillow, Kaminari lets loose and sobs. She doesn't know how long she cries for, but it's dark by the time her tears are finished.

* * *

_One Week Later_

Here and gone. Her father was back in Chouwa for less than a day and then he was gone, just like always. It doesn't surprise Kaminari, though. Her father has been like this for as long as she can remember. Honestly, the fact that Daddy is normally away in some distant village helping rebuild from natural disasters, healing the sick, feeding orphans, teaching the illiterate to read…none of it means that he doesn't love her. It only means that he loves other people too.

Yet, as much as Kaminari hates to admit it, it feels like his love for people outweighs his love for her. Like many other things that Kaminari has come to know, it hurts.

Sitting at the small, square, dining room table, she stares at the empty space across from her blankly. Closing her grassy orbs in anguish, she suppresses a sigh and raises a cracked porcelain cup to her lips. She sips green tea slowly, trying to let it sooth her. Of course, as is partially expected, the tea doesn't do its job. When it comes down to it, her father came home last night, told stories about the houses he has been helping rebuild near Kusagakure due to a flood, said that maybe they'll see each other for breakfast, and then she woke up this morning to find him gone. Though she hates it when this happens, nothing can change it. Every time he comes home he does this.

Gazing at her saddened reflection in the cup's dark liquid, his words from last night flash through her memory. As do his lively green eyes, the graying brown stubble on his chin, and the large hand that he patted her head with.

" _It's nice to see you again, Kaminari. Smiling, happy, and working to support yourself as always. There's nobody better to come home to than my independent and happy daughter."_

"I don't know why you always refer to Chouwa as  _'home'_ , Daddy," Kaminari whispers. "Before yesterday, I hadn't seen you in a whole four months, and it's going to be even longer this time."

From the time she was small, Kaminari has always tried to be happy for her father. He travels the shinobi nations helping the needy and less fortunate. What child wouldn't be proud of their father for that? Yet, as much as she smiles when Daddy is here, her heart is in tatters when he's gone. She knows that she needs to keep smiling and keep being independent, but why is it so hard?

Taking another sip of tea, she glances across the table once more. This time she doesn't look at the empty place where her father should be sitting, but at a torn piece of paper with words scribbled across the surface. Based on the jagged rip and on the fact that her father's writing is nearly indecipherable, it couldn't be plainer that he scrawled his note out in a hurry. The tea stain in the upper corner and the tiny bits of scrambled eggs toward the bottom makes this even more apparent. Kaminari does her best to shove such assumptions aside, but she can't help wondering if her daddy wanted to get this note finished, eat breakfast, and dash out of the house before she woke up. He never did like explaining things to her in person…

Exhaling hollowly, it occurs to Kaminari that he doesn't even like explaining details in his notes. All he ever leaves her are two or three sentences explaining why he left, an  _"I love you"_ , and then he signs the bottom  _"Daddy"_. This note isn't any different from the others. All it took was skimming it over once to memorize the message's content, which is what the girl is currently dwelling on:

_Kaminari,_

_I'm off to the Land of Snow to help the orphans there. See you in four months. If things turn bad, it might be five. Love you._

_Daddy_

As she eyes the note from the other side of the table, Kaminari finds herself gulping down the remainder of her tea in a single swig. Once this is finished, she reaches for the teapot sitting on the coarse wood's center and pours herself another glass. Five months? Her father could be gone for five months? What kind of parent leaves their child alone to support themselves for  _five months_?! That's almost half a year! Eighty percent of the time he returns later than his lengthiest estimate, so knowing him, Kaminari could be alone for as long as _six_  months!

Cringing at the thought, Kaminari swallows this cup as quickly as the first, anxiety flowing through her veins. Her daddy has left her for as long as four months before, but the possibility of him taking six? It unnerves her! How is she supposed to handle being alone for  _six months_?!

It takes downing two more cups of tea, nervously tapping her fingers, and eventually pacing, but at some point Kaminari manages to pull herself together. By now she is no longer sitting at the dining room table, but is instead leaning against the kitchen counter. Running a hand through her thick, black, tresses to help herself think, the girl speaks aloud.

"It's okay, Kaminari.  _Completely_  okay. You've got this. You've been alone and have supported yourself before. So what if Fuji fired you, and the villagers hate you? You might have to work a little harder now, but you can still do this. You've got this handled."

As amazing as it is, Kaminari does feel like she has this situation handled despite her anxiety. Her father was in and out of Chouwa so quickly that he didn't hear a single word about her helping that Akatsuki or about her shunning. This is something that works to her advantage. Then, stacked on the kitchen counter and against the walls, are piles of laundry, candle making material, and supplies for baking. Sure she got fired, and sure she isn't well-liked by the villagers anymore, but there will always be services that are in demand despite their provider. Candles, baked goods, and a person to launder clothing are excellent examples.

Stretching her limbs in preparation, Kaminari walks toward a container of solid candle wax as she speaks aloud once more.

"Well, Kaminari, nobody in Chouwa is going to hire you since helping the Akatsuki guy, so you'll have to make money on your own. Remember, you're independent. You can do this."

With that said, Kaminari sets straight to work, her home's suffocating emptiness and deafening silence acting as the heaviest of backdrops.

* * *

"You've brought this on yourself, Deidara. I warned you not to be reckless."

Deep in the Land of Fire, at the halfway point between the Land of Sound and the Land of Rivers, the two Akatsuki leap through the trees. For the first time in what feels like ages, Sasori is in his true form with Hiruko nowhere in sight. Normally when Sasori does this it is because the puppet he conceals himself within is far too bulky, offering nothing but hindrance when traveling fast-paced. Although, this isn't entirely the case for once. It is true that Hiruko would be a bother, but at this point it doesn't honestly matter. Hiruko was practically decimated during their battle with the trio of Orochimaru's disciples. He is still salvageable, but both Sasori and Deidara know that the Puppet Master has his work cut out for him in terms of repairs.

Sadly, Sasori's prized masterpiece isn't the only thing that was damaged. The three Sound shinobi were far stronger than Deidara anticipated. By working together, they managed to get past the traps that he'd set using his detonating clay. Thus, they got in several hits that were nearly fatal. They broke each of his ribs, punctured a lung, and nearly ruptured his internal organs. Deidara almost went as far as using his C4 attack, but thankfully to Sasori, Deidara didn't have to go higher than C3. Also because of Sasori, they managed to find a medic in a nameless village near the border of Sound and Fire. Luckily that village had no idea who the Akatsuki were, so there wasn't a problem getting treatment.

They spent two days in that village, the medical woman worried beyond belief about Deidara's condition. It took the woman and her assistant working around the clock, but luckily, they made the vast achievement of repairing his lung along with his damaged organs. While they were at it they set the flaxen-haired bomber's ribs, going as far as mending the bones partway. The women made the request that Deidara stay in their village for a week following his treatment. Traveling too soon after acquiring such massive injuries is very unsafe, they said, and if he pushes himself too far there is the chance that he might break his ribs a second time.

However, neither he nor Sasori took the medical women's advice to heart. Staying in one place for two days was already too long by Akatsuki standards. If they stayed longer and were discovered, that would only lead to another fight. Considering Deidara's condition, as well as the fact that the boy has been stripped of detonating clay, a fight was not something that they were willing to risk. Because of this, the two men set out from the village with Deidara's ribs partially broken and with many of Sasori's puppets damaged beyond usefulness, taking extreme measures to get back to their most common hideout in the Land of Rivers.

As they leap from branch to branch, Deidara does his best to maintain his confidence. When Sasori makes his remark, he straightens his posture in arrogance. However, the sudden stinging of his abdomen works as a definite barrier to the bomber's pride, forcing a wince to flicker across his features and for an arm to cradle the pained area.

It is apparent to each of them that the Puppet Master doesn't miss these actions, because Sasori rolls gray-brown eyes prior to speaking once more.

"Don't pretend that you aren't in pain. Your reckless overconfidence is the reason that we had to fight as hard as we did. Don't allow it to be the reason for death due to a punctured organ." His voice dripping with aggravation, he adds, "After this mission, my theory has been more than confirmed. Your  _'art'_  really will be the death of you."

Momentarily forgetting his pain, Deidara glances at his partner while wearing a sardonic smile. "When I die, at least I'll go out with a bang, un."

Silence lapses after this. Birds are singing, rodents are chattering, and leaves can be heard rustling in the breeze. When the sound of a far-off stream is heard, Deidara clings to it, using the noise as a method of soothing himself through the increasing agony. Only a day has passed since leaving their most recent village, and admittedly, his ribs have been bothering him more with every passing hour. Sadly, they are still three days away from the desired hideout. Not to mention that Deidara needs to stop at the village, Chouwa, to purchase more detonating clay…

Thus far, it is his greatest hope that he will be able to get through the following seventy-two hours in fair condition.

When Deidara gives another wince one kilometer later, like his previous pained reactions, it isn't missed by Sasori. For the first time during the month that he has known the man, he makes a remark that sounds the slightest bit concerned. Even so, he sounds aggravated more than anything.

"You'd better not die, Deidara. Leader Pein already stuck me with  _you_. If I ever have to get paired with somebody else, I'm afraid that next partner I'm stuck with will be worse."

This time Deidara doesn't smile at all. Though it causes an increase in pain for his fractured bones, Deidara shrugs apathetically.

"If that day comes, then I look forward to it even if I won't be there, un. When you get teamed up with someone worse, then maybe you'll learn to appreciate me."

Sasori sighs. "Be quiet, brat."

* * *

_Three Days Later_

Kaminari has never thought much about the elderly population, but ever since being fired from the candy shop, she has grown to appreciate them. Due to their increased age, they need assistance with things such as laundry, baking, and making candles. Much like the rest of Chouwa, they do not approve of Kaminari, but many of them have no room for skepticism when it comes to help with everyday tasks. It is true that all of them have children, but they are often preoccupied with caring for their own households. Because of this, the tasks that the elderly need assistance with most often fall to unemployed young people in need of funds; in other words, Kaminari.

Yesterday the girl woke up an hour before sunrise, baked bread and cooked meals late into the afternoon, and then spent the rest of the day delivering them all over the village. Due to her efforts, Chouwa's elders have enough food to last them for the remainder of the week.

As for today, rather than spending it trapped in her kitchen, Kaminari is kneeling at the side of the river washing clothes. Out of all the houses in the village, Kaminari's is the farthest away from the other residents'. Her house is the last one located on the main road leading out of Chouwa, and from every angle, no other structures are seen. The single landmark that can be seen, aside from tall, waving, grasses and the dirt trail, is the river. It runs behind her house and is conveniently close for those times when she needs a large amount of water. Thus, why her father chose to build their home here. He has always liked the river.

If there's only one thing that Kaminari has in common with her father, it's that she also likes the river. On the days when she knows that she won't be seeing anybody, and knows that her father won't spontaneously arrive, Kaminari likes to exchange her usual clothing for her emerald green qipao dress. While it still maintains its vivid coloring, the article of clothing is by no means new. Along with this, it has a slit on each side that trails all the way up to her hip. Because it is weathered and has so much space for her legs, it is the perfect thing to wear when performing tasks near the river.

Right now, the green qipao is what she wears, nothing underneath it besides a pair of panties. Her hair is not in its usual ponytail either, but is instead down so that it narrowly brushes her shoulders. Another inch or two, and her hair will be comfortably pooling atop her shoulders. The girl knows that this will never happen, though, as she always cuts it before it can reach that length. Over the years, Kaminari has found that it is much handier to keep her hair short. It makes her wonder how that Akatsuki guy can cope with having his hair so long…

Realizing her thoughts, Kaminari shakes her head in attempt to banish the flaxen-haired criminal from her mind. He only comes to the village once a month, and the last time he showed up was two weeks ago. She knows that even if she were to go to the village every day, that she wouldn't cross paths with him again for another couple of weeks. Even then the odds of seeing him are slim, as Kaminari knows that she is going to be trapped to the confines of her home on most days due to work.

Then again, considering how every person in Chouwa can hardly stand the sight of her these days, perhaps staying near her home is for the best. Everybody in this village is so quick to judge people and shun them that it drives her crazy! It's true that she misses the interaction, but if she is forced to conform to being as judgmental and self-righteous as the rest of them, then perhaps the loneliness is worth it. Honestly, even after suffering two weeks of shunning, Kaminari still doesn't regret her actions. That Akatsuki guy needed help, so she helped him. The only thing Kaminari regrets is not being able to speak with him more in-depth.

Sighing, Kaminari forces a smile to her face as she runs various garments over a scrub board. With the nature of her thoughts, it doesn't take long for the smile to become a genuine one.

"Don't worry about it, Kaminari. You'll get to talk to the Akatsuki guy again at some point, and if you don't, the rest of the village can't hate you forever." Smile growing into a wide grin, the girl adds, "And if the villagers do hate you forever, then maybe you can leave Chouwa one day. You never wanted a future here, anyway. If you leave, then you have nothing to lose."

_Leave Chouwa_. The very thought of that causes Kaminari to smile for the rest of the afternoon. If someone was observing the girl, they would swear that washing clothes is her most favored task.

* * *

" _Are you sure it's safe to purchase your detonating clay right now? You don't look good, Deidara. Maybe you should return to the hideout, and let me purchase it."_

_"Pfft. I hope you're joking, Sasori my man. Chouwa probably has the village panic shelter ready because of my presence alone. If you show up to buy clay instead of me, I'm sure that half of them will die of sudden heart failure, un. That village is my main supply line, and I don't want to terrify them any more than necessary. So, stay away and let me handle them."_

That was the gist of their conversation. Nothing more was said and nothing less. Based on Sasori's narrowed eyes and cynical tone, he was not at all in favor of Deidara's decision. Nevertheless, the red-haired man shrugged and made his way up the dirt path, leaving the bomber to decide on his own which side of the fork to take. Though Deidara felt uncertain, as the pain in his abdomen had grown to the point of excruciating over the past few days, he took the side of the fork leading to Chouwa. He didn't look back at his partner once.

As he reflects on this, the bomber continues making his way down the path. His Akatsuki cloak is torn in multiple places, there is a lengthy scrape on his right cheek, and his straw hat was lost during the fight. The scrape is swelling, his abdomen stings, and his facial expression would make it clear to any person the amount of pain he's feeling. Not to mention that both his Akatsuki cloak and the gray shirt beneath it contain bloodstains that refused to come out when the people in the previous village attempted laundering his clothing. With all these tidbits combined, Deidara is aware of what a disturbing sight he must be.

When a remarkably raw wave of stinging hits, Deidara groans and brings an arm to his rib cage. His vocalizations echo so loudly that every crow in the area caws before flying elsewhere. By this point Deidara is practically on the verge of collapse.

"Gah! Why did they have to go for the ribs, un?! Losing both arms would be easier to tolerate than this! It feels like my insides are being skewered!"

Doing his best to shake off the pain, Deidara saunters farther down the path. Already he can see the forest's end, tall grasses and a far-off river coming into view. He has been able to hear the river for around a kilometer now, focusing on the sound so intently that it might as well be the beating of his own heart. Now that he can see it as well, the bomber focuses on it more so than before. The sight of it soothes him almost more than the sound.

With the river as his point of fixation, Deidara forces himself onward. The stinging of his abdomen increases with every step he takes, but somehow, he continues pushing. Upon fully emerging from the forest, he feels an enormous sense of accomplishment. Deidara doesn't like admitting this to himself, but he could easily pass out at any moment. As he stumbles up the path leading to the village, his vision blurs slightly. Though, he doesn't allow this to act as a hindrance. The bomber clutches his abdomen, grits his teeth, and continues moving.

So determined is the boy that he makes it to the section of the trail where the first house comes into view and where the river comes nearer. After making it this far, Deidara is certain that he is going to be able to make it out of Chouwa with his clay and to the nearest Akatsuki hideout. He is so badly injured that he will be forced to stay at the northeast branch hideout instead of going on to the main hideout, but after resting for a few days he'll be able to move from there.

Right as he has these thoughts, however, another sharp pain bursts through his abdomen. This one is so agonizing that it causes him to shout, an entire flock of crows scattering frightenedly and taking to the skies. Unable to keep his face from contorting bitterly, Deidara clutches at his busted ribs with both arms. The boy tries getting ahold of himself, knowing that all he wants is to get his detonating clay and leave this backwater village like always. When his vision blurs once more, he attempts blinking it away. Sadly, his vision doesn't clear. Instead the blurriness grows worse.

A moment later, to make everything more difficult, Deidara's head begins throbbing in sync with his abdomen. By now the agony is so unbearable that Deidara is brought to his knees, releasing another echoing shout. The boy tries getting to his feet, but it isn't any use. Vision blurred and head throbbing, it doesn't take long for him to grow dizzy. Ten seconds is all it takes for the bomber to hit the ground like a downed tree, the thud making a sound, but nobody around to hear it.

* * *

It is early in the afternoon, and by some miracle, Kaminari managed to get through over half of the clothes that she was entrusted with washing. The girl currently stands on the immense plot of land behind her two-story home, hanging clothing of all variations on the lengthy clothesline. Her emerald green qipao still adorns her, the fabric brushing against her legs as the breeze blows the dress apart along its slits. Raven tresses remain free as well, the girl's dark strands blowing around her face as she angles her body against the wind. Secretly, the breeze feels marvelous on the bare portions of Kaminari's skin. She is glad that her home is so far away from the rest of Chouwa. The girl would never get away with walking around like this otherwise.

Grinning widely, she tucks a black strand behind her ear and plucks a tan kimono out from a basket of damp clothing. Once it is in hand, she throws it over the clothesline, bends over, and grabs two clothespins out of a smaller basket beside the previous one. As she does this, Kaminari can't help wondering what doing laundry in the wilderness would be like. Washing her clothes in a stream in the hinterlands somewhere while traveling between villages. She supposes that she would have to bathe in that stream, too, and then start a campfire and eat berries for dinner. Being between villages would be difficult, yet it also sounds invigorating. Being free from Chouwa, free from expectations, and free from this village's mold. The thought of it sounds incredible!

When she earns enough money for things besides food and bills, Kaminari has a half mind to purchase books on topics such as wilderness survival skills. She should teach herself how to read maps, as well. In theory, Kaminari will need some inkling for direction if she leaves. It's not as though she can wander at random and hope that a kind stranger will come along to give her directions. Based on what she has heard, people get killed that way…

Grin faltering, the realization hits Kaminari that she might never have what it takes to set out on her own. It makes her wish that instead of making futile preparations and fantasizing, that somebody would show up and take her away from here. A group of gypsies, traveling merchants, a nice family from far away, anybody would do. As long as it gets Kaminari away from Chouwa.

The thoughts spinning through her head like a broken record, Kaminari adjusts one of the clothespins in her grasp to fully attach the tan kimono to the clothesline. Apparently the girl doesn't pin the article of clothing down fast enough, however, because that is when a strong gust of wind creeps up. As a result, the kimono leaps from the clothesline and flies through the air in a hasty retreat. Thankfully, it doesn't take long for Kaminari to act.

Picking up a heavy stone that sits at her feet, Kaminari places it atop the basket of clothing so that the rest of the garments don't follow suit. Then, once she is certain that everything is solidly in place, she leaps after the tan kimono in a mad dash. With the pace she is moving, it doesn't seem like the girl is running after a piece of fabric. If anything, it looks like she is trying to capture a small child who is running toward a beehive. When she calls out, this seems even more the case.

"No! Where are you going?! Come back here! Old lady Yuki needs you! Stop moving!"

Unfortunately for Kaminari, the breeze picks up, causing the kimono to blow an incredibly vast distance away. The entire time, she somehow keeps from becoming frustrated. Instead, she continues her rapid pursuit in determination. By the time Kaminari finally snatches it up, the girl looks back only to discover that her house is a large dot sitting near the horizon. It is only upon discovering this that she grows frustrated.

Raising the tan kimono so that she is looking at it, Kaminari pouts. "See? Look what you made me do! Now I have to walk all the way back to my house from here! You should be ashamed of yourself for doing this to me!"

Tucking the garment beneath her arm, Kaminari prepares for the lengthy trek back to her place of residence. Not only is her house a dot on the horizon, but she can see the dirt trail leading away from Chouwa only a meter to her left. This walk is going to be long, that is for certain…

Before Kaminari has a chance to take the first step toward her house, however, a noise meets her ears. It isn't a bird, a rodent, or the wind like would normally be expected. Instead, she hears what sounds like a pained moan. It isn't the moan of an ensnared animal, either. This moan is entirely human and sounds in dire agony.

The sound of that moan is all it takes for Kaminari to forget her task of washing clothes, forget her state of partial undress, and for her fantasies of leaving Chouwa to vanish. Emerald eyes widening to the size of saucers, Kaminari immediately begins scanning the area. A moment is all it takes for her to discover that the noise is coming from the dirt trail. Not only does the groaning echo, but through the tall grasses, a human-sized lump can be seen. The instant she spots the injured person, she shoves the grasses aside and sprints in their direction. The whole time, the girl calls out to them.

"Oh my gosh! How long have you been laying there?! What parts of your body are hurt?! Do you have a fever?! I really hope you're okay!"

Kaminari's first plan is to see if she can get the person to come to so that she can assess their condition. Then she wants to see if they can walk so that she can help them get to the village medic. True, Kaminari does have medical skills, but they are limited. Her father gave her a few lessons, though unfortunately, he never taught her anything in-depth. Daddy has always been the type to teach his daughter those  _"just-in-case basics"_  before running off to another part of the world and deserting her for months on end. Because of this, taking this person to a medic is for the best; especially if they want better treatment than bandages, ointment, and simple healing techniques.

The instant Kaminari emerges from the grasses and onto the trail, however, her plan to take the injured traveler to the village medic goes up in smoke. A few seconds pass and she reels backwards, believing what she's seeing to be a hallucination. Green eyes five times wider than they were a moment prior, Kaminari cautiously edges closer and taps his knee with the tip of her bare toe. She half-assumes that her limb will go through him, partially suspecting that the schizophrenia has finally set in. When her toe rubs against the rough, black, material of shinobi pants, however, Kaminari immediately learns that the sight is a reality. Lying unconscious on the ground before her is that Akatsuki guy that she helped a couple weeks ago.

The blonde-haired boy lays on his side curled into a ball, knees pulled as high as his upper torso and arms cradling his abdomen. The black cloak bearing the red clouds, which was in flawless condition the last time she saw him, has gaping tears in multiple locations. Along with this are remnants of what appears to be dried blood, both on the torn cloak and on the gray shirt beneath it. His golden tresses are tangled, and his hairline is drenched in sweat. Accompanying this is a handsome face that is contorted so much in pain that it is nearly unrecognizable. His teeth are clenched, his jaw is locked, and his forehead has multiple creases. A wide gash is seen on the boy's cheek, his face is spotted by droplets of perspiration, and Kaminari could swear that pained tears are pooling in tightly-closed eyes.

What this Akatsuki guy is doing back in Chouwa, Kaminari doesn't know. How he acquired his injuries she isn't certain, neither does she have any idea what exactly is wrong with him. As she observes the boy in her state of shock, there are only two things that Kaminari  _is_  certain of. One, he is so badly injured that he passed out while walking. Two, she can't leave him here. If she does, the Akatsuki boy will be discovered by the villagers and destroyed while he is vulnerable. In all honesty, Kaminari doesn't care who he is. She found him here, and he needs help. This is all that matters.

Posture stiffening fearfully, the girl spins three-hundred and sixty degrees around and observes their surroundings with care. Luckily, there aren't any travelers coming up the path from the forest, neither can anyone be seen ascending the trail from the village. Besides insects, wildlife, and the surrounding grasses, she and the Akatsuki guy are the only two people here. Deciding to take advantage of their solitude in case others do happen to appear, Kaminari acts fast.

Squatting down beside him, she unfastens the cloak in a swift manner, removes it, and turns it inside-out. Once she is certain that black is the only color seen, Kaminari folds the cloak and tucks it under her arm. The instant the red clouds are out of sight, she unfurls the tan kimono that she'd been chasing. Gripping the Akatsuki guy so that she has him under the arms, she drapes one of his larger limbs over her small shoulders so that she is able to drag him. As soon as the girl has the boy adjusted, Kaminari tucks the kimono over his hair so that his blonde tresses are hidden.

Now, even if another person does come along and spot them, at least they won't recognize him as an Akatsuki. From a distance, they will appear as a couple taking an afternoon stroll.

The boy in her grasp, Kaminari strays from the path and forces her way through the tall grasses. She has carried heavy baskets of laundry, massive containers of food, and has lifted crates of rock candy hefty enough to make a grown man wince in surprise. If she can do all of this, then she can drag a medium-sized, male, teenager back to her house. Based on his attitude the first time they spoke, he isn't exactly the friendly type, but Kaminari doesn't much care. After treating his wounds and hiding him from the villagers while in such a vulnerable position, he should be at least a  _little bit_  thankful.


	3. Chapter Three

_Disclaimer: I do not own Naruto._

* * *

**Chapter Three**

Every rib is broken, there is a small tear in his large intestine, and he is suffering from internal bleeding.  _That_  is what's wrong with the Akatsuki guy. Not to mention that he is severely dehydrated, as if traveling quickly for days without drinking much water. Upon discovering this, Kaminari shoved the rest of the elderly peoples' laundry aside, washed her hands, got out her medical kit, and went straight to work.

Using the rough set of medical skills that her father taught her, as well as tidbits she'd learned from Daddy's medical books, the first thing Kaminari did was fix the tear in his large intestine. It was small; so small that she'd almost missed it. Because of this, she used fairly basic medical jutsu to repair it. It took every ounce of her concentration and a large amount of chakra, but somehow the girl managed. Once the tear was repaired, she found the source of his internal bleeding and mended that back together as well. Now, because of her efforts, the Akatsuki guy's bleeding has ceased entirely.

More than anything, Kaminari would like to do something to fix his ribs, too. Of course, repairing broken bones is something that is far beyond her. Stopping his internal bleeding and mending his intestine zapped most of her chakra already. The girl can't imagine what repairing his ribs would do to her! Or to him, for that matter. She is inexperience. Honestly, Kaminari is questioning whether her handiwork will hold up, or if she just made a dire error of some sort that might kill him…

Not wanting to take any more risks that might threaten his life, the green-eyed girl removes thick bandages from her medical kit and binds his torso tightly. Luckily, even if the boy's ribs are broken, not one of them is out of place. Because of this, keeping his abdomen wrapped is all it should take for his ribs to heal. Or at least this is true in theory. Fuji's uncle broke his ribs once, and this is how the village medic handled it. Although, for all Kaminari knows, she wrapped his ribs the wrong way, and the bandages will be completely ineffective. Hopefully this isn't the case, though, and she did it properly.

After spending many hours tending to his wounds, Kaminari transfers the Akatsuki from where she'd placed him on a blanket in the middle of her living room floor to one of the guest bedrooms. The girl kneels beside the twin-sized bed with a glass of water, sitting him up partway and forcing him to drink. While mending his wounds and binding his ribs, one thing Kaminari took breaks for was to force water down him. The boy is terribly dehydrated, so she has done everything she can to get fluids back inside him. Though he is unconscious, apparently he feels thirst, because at times he has reached for the glass himself and has helped guzzle. To Kaminari's pride, she has gotten the Akatsuki boy to drink four glasses of water.

Small fingers shoving thick, blonde, tresses away from his face, Kaminari is currently helping him consume a fifth glass. For the first time since finding him passed out on the trail, he wears an expression that appears emotionless rather than anguished. His mouth, chin, and closed eyes appearing lax, the boy unconsciously reaches for the glass. Whether he is doing this in his sleep or is partially awake, she has no idea, but either way he gulps down the cool liquid.

Once the glass has been emptied, Kaminari places it on the bedside table, lays the Akatsuki boy down in the bed, and pulls the blanket up to his chest. After making sure he is comfortable, she removes a pitcher from the nightstand, refills the glass, and then replaces it. If Kaminari could, she would help him drink another glass of water, sit next to the bed, and watch over his condition. It's only too sad that this isn't possible. Kaminari has laundry to finish. While she will undoubtedly check on him, it isn't possible for her to be by his side every minute.

Taking a moment to gaze at him, the girl removes a piece of paper and a pen from the bedside table's drawer. Placing it against the wooden wall, she scribbles out a quick note before setting the parchment down on the nightstand. Making sure the corner is tucked beneath the glass so that it doesn't blow away due to the open window, Kaminari exits the room a second later. With his condition, the Akatsuki guy probably won't wake up until sometime tomorrow. The note probably isn't necessary with this being the case, but she decides to leave it anyway. If there is one phrase that Kaminari believes in, it is  _"better safe than sorry"_.

* * *

Deidara isn't sure exactly what it is that rouses him. It could be the feeling of a slight breeze, forcing him to tug warm blankets up to his chin. It could the dull aching of his ribs that burst with pain every time he attempts rolling over. Or it could be the excruciating sensation of needing to urinate. For all Deidara knows, the reason he wakes up could be all three of these things. The only thing the blonde bomber is certain of is that, once he blinks his cobalt eyes open, he is met by the sight of a very unfamiliar room.

The first thing Deidara notes are pristine white walls, framed pictures of mountains adorning them tastefully. The second thing he notices is a desk shoved against the far wall. Besides a plain wooden chair and a few books, it is completely bare. In a nearby corner, across from the desk, is a wardrobe. Based on one of the open doors, the wardrobe is empty. Pushing himself into a sitting position, Deidara shifts his gaze to the room's opposite side. Save for an open door and a nightstand, there isn't anything else in here.

Sitting up farther, the boy gazes into the hallway in attempt to figure out where he is at. Unfortunately, all that's seen are painted wooden walls and the open door of the room across from him. There aren't any pictures on the walls, and the other room isn't a person's bedroom, so this is no help to the bomber whatsoever. The single thing he is the least bit happy about is the sight of a toilet and a bathtub on the corridor's other side. He feels grimy, and his bladder is shrinking more by the minute, so the bathroom will come in handy. After all, the person who brought him here wouldn't have given him the room across from the bathroom if they didn't intend for him to use it.

Shoving the blankets aside, Deidara forces his legs over the edge of the bed so that he can stand. While doing this, though it isn't his intent, he gets a closer look at the bedside table. Apparently gazing into the hallway wasn't the correct method of finding answers. Amongst a pen, a pitcher, and a glass of water, there is a sheet of milky white parchment bearing words. Raising a brow, Deidara lifts the glass that holds it down and brings the page to his face. Just as he suspected, the sheet of paper holds the answers that he has been looking for:

_Akatsuki guy,_

_The water on the bedside table is for you. Drink it. You're probably still dehydrated, and you need fluids. Don't move around too much. You had a tear in your intestine and internal bleeding when I found you passed out on the path to the village. I fixed all of that, but if you move around too much, you might hurt yourself again. All your ribs are broken, too, and I don't want you puncture anything. Sit down, drink water, read a book, and DON'T MOVE. If I'm not in the room when you wake up, then I'm in another part of the house doing chores. With you passed out in bed, I would never leave my house._

_Sleep tight Akatsuki guy, and I'll check on you soon._

_P.S: You drank five glasses of water, so you'll probably have to pee when you wake up. The bathroom is across the hall if you need it._

Furrowing his brow, Deidara skims over the note a second time. He passed out on the path to the village? That does make sense. The fact that his partially-healed ribs broke again during three days of traveling also makes sense, as does the internal bleeding and the torn intestine. He wouldn't have been in so much pain if it was something less severe. What  _doesn't_  make sense, on the other hand, is that somebody stopped to help him. This is the village of  _Chouwa_. The people here hate the Akatsuki! Who in their right mind would pick him up from the trail, take him into their home, and heal him?!

Deidara would like to take more time to mull these thoughts over, but unfortunately his bladder reminds him that he has other duties to attend to. Returning the note to its previous spot on the nightstand, the blonde bomber stands up and wobbles his way toward the bathroom. Even after sleeping for multiple hours and being healed by some unknown stranger, Deidara's ribs are still very tender. Yet, he manages to make the journey. Hopefully he will meet the person who helped him at some point today. Whether he'll thank them or call that person an idiot, he doesn't know. The only thing Deidara is certain of is that he is curious about the insane person who would  _dare_  help an Akatsuki.

* * *

The sun is low in the sky, dark being less than an hour away. Yet, even with the odds working against her, Kaminari managed to finish the laundry that she had been tasked with. It is drying on the clothesline, and by tomorrow morning it will be ready for ironing and folding. If the girl is lucky, she will be able to return the clothes to their rightful owners by early tomorrow afternoon. The fact that she has been able to keep on task even after taking care of the Akatsuki guy is incredible! Hopefully she can say the same for tomorrow. When he wakes up, there's no telling how he will react…

Concern fluttering in the pit of her stomach, Kaminari pins the last of the damp garments to the clothesline prior to picking up the empty basket sitting at her feet. Normally the girl would take a moment to stand outside after hanging laundry. Listening to wet clothing flap in the breeze, watching as the sun sets over the river, smelling the refreshing scent of the emerald grasses… Nothing is better than experiencing nature in the fading sunlight.

Tonight, however, Kaminari doesn't give the scenery a single glance. Holding the basket against her hip, she bounces toward the back porch and up the wooden stairs without a second thought. Angling her body sideways so that both she and the basket can pass through, she shoves open the narrow door and skips inside. Kaminari may be nervous, yet she can't stop smiling. The Akatsuki guy might not have acted enthused about her company when they met a couple weeks ago, but it could turn out different this time. Who knows? Maybe he'll grow to like her. The rest of Chouwa hates her, and some individuals never liked her to begin with, so what does Kaminari have to lose by befriending an Akatsuki?

These thoughts in mind, the girl tucks a raven strand behind her ear, leans the basket against the wall beside the door, and walks more deeply into her house. She moves past the kitchen table, the pantry, and the cupboards. Kaminari would like to exit the kitchen entirely, but she takes a moment to stir the soup that she left simmering on the stove. After tasting it to make sure that it is properly seasoned, Kaminari sets the wooden spoon aside and makes her way to the living room. She pauses slightly, noting that the floors need to be swept and mopped prior to skipping toward the staircase leading to the upper level. The Akatsuki guy is most likely still sleeping, but it couldn't hurt to check on him. Besides. If he is awake, then he must be hungry, and she made plenty of soup for two.

As she ascends the tall staircase, it suddenly hits Kaminari that he might not like soup. Maybe she should have made gyoza, or onigiri, or fried pork. True, she had to make something quick because it was getting late and there was still work to do, but adding another fish and some extra mushrooms wouldn't have taken too much time. Now that the girl is thinking about the subject, what do men eat, anyway? Honestly, Kaminari has never cooked for a man before; not even her father! Once the guy wakes up, Kaminari should ask what kind of food he likes. It's already painful enough having broken ribs and recovering from dehydration. He should at least get to eat something decent.

Kaminari is already halfway up the stairs by this point, brow furrowed in thought and green qipao swishing along with her movements. So distracted is the girl by her inner musings that she never hears as the toilet flushes in her bathroom, or as the water in the sink begins running. When the bathroom door rapidly swings open, Kaminari doesn't notice this either. She makes it from the staircase's center to the top without anything interrupting her thought processes. Upon stepping out from the stairwell and onto the second level, however, her thoughts are brought to an abrupt halt.

"What? The crazy girl? You have to be kidding me, un!"

Jumping at the sound of the aggravated, masculine, voice, Kaminari shoots her gaze to the center of the hallway. Standing in between the bathroom and the open door to the guestroom is none other than the Akatsuki guy. His gray shirt, as well as the netting beneath it, are askew from sleep, and his blonde tresses are badly tangled. The boy's face, which was relaxed by slumber the last time she looked at him, is now contorted bitterly. He wears a harsh frown, and his bright blue eyes are narrowed. Of course, Kaminari hardly notices any of this. All she sees is the boy's arm cradling his midsection, causing her to gasp while rushing in his direction.

Standing approximately ten centimeters away, Kaminari grips him by the shoulder to keep him in place. The entire time she observes the boy closely, speaking in rapid sentences.

"Akatsuki guy! You're awake! How are you feeling? Are you dizzy? In pain? Sore? Drowsy? You were in really bad shape when I found you passed out on the trail earlier! Dehydration, internal bleeding, a tear in your intestine,  _ **and**_  broken ribs?! I was surprised that you made it as far up the trail as you did! You must have some serious endurance, and it's a good thing, too. Otherwise I never would've found you! If I hadn't found you, you  _definitely_  would've died. If natural causes didn't do you in, then somebody from Chouwa would have bashed your head in with a rock!" Pausing slightly, she adds, "It's a good thing that I'm the one who found you, huh? I'm probably the only person in Chouwa who wouldn't kill you while you're down. You got seriously lucky!"

Kaminari's free hand pats his abdomen down thoroughly, making sure that every break is in place. A second later a soft green glow emanates from Kaminari's palm, checking to make sure that her patchwork healing job is holding up. The internal bleeding hasn't returned, neither has the tear in his intestine much to her joy. If anything, the areas she has healed are quickly returning to normal.

The girl doesn't see it due to her intense concentration, but the boy stares at her in a mixture of skepticism and surprise. By the time Kaminari shifts her gaze to his face, the surprise has been replaced by aggravation. Before she has the chance to make any further remarks, she is being grabbed by the wrists, glared at sharply, and shoved away. To her luck, he doesn't shove her away  _too_ aggressively. Rather, he does it in a fashion that boldly states  _"stay out of my bubble"_.

Once she is separated from him, the girl doesn't attempt getting closer. Instead, she stands in place and listens to the boy. She doesn't know whether to identify his tone as annoyed or unbelieving.

"Okay. There  _has_  to be something wrong with you, un. Was I really in that bad of shape, or did you just want to use the opportunity to kidnap me? I don't think I've ever said this to a girl before, but you strike me as the obsessive, crazy, stalker, type. There's no way that somebody like you would be able to fix internal bleeding and a torn intestine, un. I'm surprised that you were even able to diagnose me! If I was really that bad, then you would have taken me to a  _trained medic_ , un!"

Kaminari, while she honestly should feel offended, doesn't take offense to the Akatsuki's words in the least. He's a criminal, right? Who would ever expect a criminal to have manners?! Not to mention that she did follow him around quite determinedly the last time he was here. In truth, Kaminari sees each of his concerns as completely justified; especially his doubt concerning her medical skills.

Her smile remaining intact, Kaminari rolls her eyes playfully and steps closer to the Akatsuki boy once more. Taking her hand, she raises it to his skull and knocks softly as she replies.

"Hello, is anybody home? I already said that everyone else in the village would've killed you while you were down! Do you think Chouwa's medic is any different? Heck, that paranoid old fart probably would've severed your main arteries and let you bleed to death! And like I said before, if somebody else would've found you, they would've beat you to death with a rock, hit you over the head with a shovel, tossed you in the river to drown… There are hundreds of ways that they could've killed you! So sure, I kidnapped you, but it wasn't really kidnapping. I saved you! First I saved you from the villagers, and then I used my head knowledge and Daddy's medical books to heal you. My medical knowledge is pretty basic, but it was enough."

The girl pauses momentarily. For one of the first times in her memory, her cheeks flush slightly in embarrassment. Luckily, her cheerful demeanor remains.

"I'll admit that it was hard, though. Focusing my chakra in one spot for an hour at a time really drained me. Fixing your intestine was the hardest! You're lucky the tear wasn't any bigger, or I don't think I could've done it. I have no idea how medics can heal entire bones! One tiny rip was hard enough. Even if I would've had chakra left, I never could've healed your ribs, so I took some bandages out of Daddy's medical kit and wrapped your middle. I might've gotten them too tight, so I hope you're okay."

The Akatsuki guy's eyes remain narrowed, his cold blue gaze boring into her. After allowing her words to sink in, however, he tips his head back and releases an exasperated sigh.

"Fine. Whatever you say. Obsessive and creepy or not, you're no threat to an S-rank criminal, un. And even if your medical skills are half-witted, I guess they got the job done. I feel better now than I did earlier, so that must mean something." Giving her a look that is both sardonic and questioning, he adds, "I'll be honest, though. I think you're an idiot, un. Helping me get my hair untangled from the door, and then healing my wounds and hiding me from the rest of the village. I don't think I've ever met someone with as little common sense as you, un."

It is here that Kaminari's smile fades, along with her cheerful demeanor. Apparently this surprises the Akatsuki, because all traces of his previous emotions vanish. Moving every strand of black so that it is out of her face, Kaminari meets his astonished cobalt eyes with serious emerald ones.

"You call it common sense. I call it paranoia. You've been to Chouwa dozens of times and have never hurt anyone. We weren't afraid of you before, so I think it's ridiculous to be afraid of you now just because you teamed up with some bad people. I mean, nobody even knows  _why_  you became a member of the Akatsuki. If anyone ever bothered asking  _ **why**_ , maybe they would learn that you're not who we think you are." A gentle smile gracing her lips, she adds, "I don't like seeing the world as black and white. By opening your mind, you see hundreds of other colors that you had no idea existed."

More than anything Kaminari was expecting skepticism from the Akatsuki, or perhaps a scoffing reaction. It is because of this that the boy's wide, surprised, eyes catch her completely off guard. He stares at her for a long, intense, moment, as if trying to read the pages of her mind like a book. What he says next, much to Kaminari's astonishment, sounds wholly philosophical.

"It must be difficult seeing so many colors at once, un. You focus so much on trying to see every color at the same time, that you never take time to dissect one color and look at the different tints."

For the first time since meeting him, the boy does something that Kaminari never would have expected; he smiles. It isn't a scarcely decipherable smirk like she might have imagined, either. It is a full smile that appears smug, curious, and adds life to his face.

"I admit, your ideologies are interesting. Almost artistic, un."

The sight of his smile brings a grin to Kaminari's own face, as do his words. Artistic? Kaminari has been called many things during her fourteen years, but  _artistic_  has never been one of them. Besides being called a good employee by Fuji and independent by her father, this could almost be considered her first real compliment. It's a tad strange considering how this same person insulted her only moments ago, but it feels good nonetheless.

Before Kaminari can bask in the joy of this person's kind remark, however, her happiness is brought to an instant halt. A groan of abrupt pain escapes from the boy's lips, and his previous smile contorts into a grimace. His arm, which had dropped to his side while she was examining her handiwork, has flown straight back to his abdomen. True, he doesn't appear nearly as in pain as he had earlier, but agony is still present. With every rib broken, this doesn't surprise the girl in the slightest. Thus, why she slides behind the boy, puts a hand on each shoulder, and gently guides him back to his assigned guestroom. She speaks the whole time.

"Okay, you really need to get back in bed! Binding your middle can only do so much. Plus, I'm sure that your intestine is still touchy. I'd like you to stay here for a few days to make sure the areas I healed hold up, but you're free to leave any time you want."

She helps him cross the bedroom floor and recline on the twin-sized bed prior to continuing.

"Use my bathroom anytime and for anything; the bathtub isn't off-limits, so feel free to use it if you want. If you're a shower person, sorry, but my house doesn't have one. If you get bored, there are books you can read on the desk over there. I'm sure you're probably hungry by now, too. I made soup for dinner, and there's plenty for two people. It has about twenty minutes left to simmer. Once it's finished, I'll bring you up a bowl. I'm not about to let you starve."

The Akatsuki eyes her the entire time she's speaking, drinking in her words. Picking up the glass of water on the nightstand, he takes a long sip of it before responding.

"I don't know if you've ever noticed this, but you talk faster than a cheetah can run, un. Do you always have this much energy? Even at night?"

Shrugging, the girl giggles in amusement. "Not always, but I definitely try. Life is so much better when you have a smile on your face!"

Taking an additional sip from the glass, he takes a moment to stare her down oddly. It is only after returning the water to the bedside table that he speaks again.

"Kaminari, I can honestly say that you are one of the strangest people that I have ever met, un."

Grinning widely, she shrugs once more. "I get that a lot."

With that said, Kaminari turns on her heel to exit the room. This isn't because she wants to get away from the Akatsuki guy, but because she needs to check on the soup.

Before Kaminari can exit the room completely, however, the exact words that he just spoke strike her. Emerald eyes widening, Kaminari turns around partway so that she is looking at the Akatsuki. He is laying on his back atop the covers facing the ceiling, his golden tresses splayed across the pillow. The moment he sees that she has ceased exiting, he raises a blonde brow and gazes in her direction.

"What is it, un?"

Plastering on a smile, Kaminari shakes her head before sharing her thoughts. "Don't worry. It's nothing. I just heard you say may name is all. I told you my name one time two weeks ago, and I'm surprised that you remember it."

Shrugging his shoulders, the Akatsuki returns to his previous position facing the ceiling. Kaminari doesn't miss the smile that graces his lips. It isn't as full as the previous smile, as it is smug more than anything. Even so, it still doesn't hesitate to light up his face.

"Of course I remember your name, un. You're the crazy girl who freed my hair from the hinges of a clay shop door. Your name is a hard one to forget."

Astonishment filling her bright green orbs, Kaminari gapes. "In that case, thanks for remembering my name. I appreciate it!" Smirking, she points out, "I still don't know your name, though."

The Akatsuki's smug smile grows by a notch or two. "Don't count on learning it either, un. I don't give my name away to crazy people."

She reflects his smile with force. "You shouldn't be so overconfident. I'm a determined crazy person. I'll get a name from you at some point."

It is only after saying this that Kaminari exits the guest bedroom. The girl doesn't notice, but once her back is turned, the Akatsuki guy stares after her with strong curiosity.

* * *

"You don't have to stay in here with me. I can eat by myself, un."

"I know, but I have a lot of work to do tomorrow, so you'll get to be alone then. Besides washing dishes, my work is done for today, so I might as well eat dinner in here with you."

Deidara can't help feeling aggravated at his situation, yet he feels simultaneously lucky. Out all the people that could have found him passed out on the path to Chouwa, it had to be the crazy girl. In truth, the blonde bomber is still trying to fathom that she carried him all the way to her house and up the stairs to the second story. While Kaminari is tall, she doesn't necessarily appear strong. Her arms, legs, and torso are all slender. With such a slim body, the idea that she possesses the strength to carry an adolescent male such a long way is unfathomable!

The fact that she could diagnose and heal him is another thing. Initially he was skeptical, but the intense stinging that he'd previously felt has diminished to that of an ache. Deidara does feel better, and because of this, he shouldn't doubt Kaminari too much.

If anything, the fact that she reasoned out what the villagers would do to him, and brought him here instead of to Chouwa's medic, was a smart move. Using makeshift medical knowledge and controlling her chakra precisely enough to repair tricky wounds was also something intelligent. True, the girl is insane for helping a member of the Akatsuki like this, and maybe a bit naïve to how dangerous he is, but the girl is not an airhead. More than anything, Deidara would label her as blindly optimistic.

Balancing the tray sitting on his lap, the boy raises a spoonful of soup to his mouth. As he swallows the warm, savory, broth, he looks at the foot of his bed where Kaminari pulled up a chair. As she eats her own soup, she meets his gaze with cheerful emerald eyes. Her eyes are so wide and filled with life that he could swear that they belong to a four-year-old child. With the speed that she speaks and as much as she bounces around, Deidara would like to say that she is as close to four years old as it gets for a teenager.

Of course, the girl sitting in front of him is far from that age in reality. The tight bodice of her green qipao dress reveals this, as do the slits trailing up each side. Kaminari is not a supermodel, neither does she look like a princess in a storybook, but with shapely legs, lovely ivory skin, large breasts, and a dazzling pair of eyes, she is certainly cute. Deidara might even go as far as calling her pretty. Admittedly, the only reason he hasn't mentioned her state of dress is because of how nicely it reveals her figure. Since he's here, he might as well have something nice to look at…

If anything on Deidara's face reveals his inner thoughts, then the girl either doesn't notice, or is unable to decipher the meaning. When she speaks again her voice maintains its energetic spark, though it has a definite edge of concern to it as well.

"I probably should've asked this sooner, but did you come to Chouwa for more clay? If you're here for clay, then Aimi's shop opens at dawn tomorrow. You can buy your clay and be on your way if you want, but I'm warning you right now that too much heavy lifting with the condition you're in could bite you in the butt. I'm not sure where you go after buying your clay, but if the trip takes longer than a couple of hours, then I would recommend sticking around here for a day or two. If you pass out in the middle of the wilderness, then I doubt that anyone will find you. The wilderness surrounding Chouwa is dense, you know. I wouldn't take the risk of passing out again."

Rolling his cobalt eyes, Deidara takes another bite of his soup and scowls at her. He spends a lengthy moment chewing a piece of fish prior to responding.

"If you're that curious, then yes. I need to buy more clay. I went on a particularly dangerous mission for the Akatsuki and used up the last supply I bought, un." He takes a long sip of broth while continuing. "For your information, I don't plan on sticking around. As soon as the sun rises I'm buying my clay, and I'm out of here, un. Where I go when I leave Chouwa is none of your business, and neither is the distance I travel. If I pace myself, I know that I won't pass out again. You're not my doctor or my mother, so don't worry, un. My safety is none of your concern."

Nodding, Kaminari sips her own soup. For the first time since meeting the girl, her familiar energy has completely vanished. The only thing seen now is concern.

"That's how you got hurt, then. During your mission, right? If you used up all your clay and got injured so badly, then it must have been a hard one."

Deidara closes his eyes nonchalantly and shrugs at her remark. "Does it matter? My partner and I accomplished our goal and survived. Injured or not, a successful mission is a successful mission, un."

A moment of silence passes after this, the two soaking in the quietude and consuming their evening meal. Deidara never thought that he would say this, but honestly, this is good soup. He enjoys fish and mushrooms, and it is well-seasoned. Not that he would tell any of this to Kaminari, though.

Meanwhile, the girl speaks again. By now much of the concern has ebbed, being replaced by interest. Although, her expression is solemn as well.

"Life as a ninja must be hard. Mission success always comes first if what I've heard is right. Completing a mission is more important than family, love, friendship, and ninjas' lives. Ninjas aren't allowed to show their emotions, aren't allowed to be unique, and aren't allowed to express themselves. The hidden villages bring up their ninjas to be perfect warriors; flawless fighting machines who do whatever they're told and never think twice about the orders they're given." Looking him in the eye, she asks, "Is that why you defected from Iwagakure? If I was from a hidden village, that's why I would defect. Being my own ninja and going by my own rules would be a much better way to live than being another expendable warrior among thousands."

Cobalt eyes widening, Deidara gapes at the girl. So astonished is he by her deduction that his bowl nearly crashes to the floor. He manages to catch it, but even so, his eyes never leave Kaminari's. In the years since the boy has left the Iwagakure, never has anyone spoken such words to him. Shockingly enough, she hit the nail on the head. Those are  _exactly_  the reasons he left. To be his own ninja; his own  _artist_. To be a free-thinker who takes orders from no one.

Apparently Deidara's thoughts are present on his face, because Kaminari responds to his unspoken confession with a soft smile.

"I'm right, aren't I? You didn't leave your village because you're evil. You just wanted freedom."

Silence falls yet again, but the consumption of soup isn't used as a distraction this time. Deidara and Kaminari continue gaping at each other, reading the other's thoughts through their eyes. It takes what feels like eternity, but at last Deidara sighs. When he finally replies to her, his statement is simple.

"You weren't exaggerating, un. I guess you  _don't_  see the world in black and white."

Kaminari sips her own soup, her smile expanding.

"No. I don't. I never want to, either."

* * *

_The Next Morning_

The living room floor has been thoroughly cleaned, as has the floor of the kitchen. The laundry has been taken down from the clothesline and sorted into piles by owner. Now, a breakfast of fried eggs and toast is being prepared on the stovetop. This also applies to the toast, considering how Kaminari has never bothered purchasing a toaster. The girl is freshly bathed, adorned by her tan kimono-style dress, and has shiny raven tresses pulled into their usual high ponytail. Each of these tasks have been completed, and the sun has only been risen for an hour.

Kaminari stands in front of the stove, flipping pieces of bread in one pan and making sure that her eggs don't burn in the other. At this early in the morning, Kaminari thought for sure that she would be the only person awake. While she was doing the mopping, however, she heard rustling coming from the guest room upstairs. Following the rustling was the sound of footsteps crossing the floor and of the guest room's door coming open. At first she thought that he might be heading downstairs to leave, but the echoing of the bathroom door swinging shut and the sound of the bathtub's faucet turning on told her otherwise.

It has been approximately a half hour since then, the sound of running water stopping around ten minutes ago. As she prepares breakfast the occasional thump can be heard, letting her know that he is probably rifling through her cabinet in search of something. The girl knows that she should let him bathe in peace, and she fully intends to. Yet, she has a very important question to ask him. It is for this reason that Kaminari lowers the heat of the burners prior to exiting the kitchen. Adjusting the strings of her apron, she hops over to the base of the staircase. Standing on her tiptoes, Kaminari shouts so that her voice echoes up the stairwell.

"Hey, Akatsuki guy?! Do you care if your eggs are over-easy, or do you like the yolks of them cooked?! And how do you like your toast?!"

It is evident that the sound of her voice catches him off-guard, because a crash comes from the bathroom, followed by an  _"ouch!"_. When he replies, irritation is heard.

"Your voice is so loud, un! Quiet down! You could cause an earthquake with all of your shouting!" After a fleeting pause, he answers her question. "I like the yolks cooked, and I like my toast with jam. I don't care if the toast is burnt. The jam helps cover up the taste anyway, un."

Smiling, Kaminari replies joyfully. "Okay! Thank you!"

She walks away from the stairs by several steps, fully prepared to return to the kitchen. Before Kaminari can get far, however, something else occurs to her. Moving back to the staircase, she shouts to the Akatsuki guy once more. This time she does so in a lower tone, recalling his earthquake remark.

"Oh, by the way, don't put a shirt on when you get done! I need to check your injuries and redo your bandages! I have to make sure your ribs are in place and see if my healing job is holding up!"

Thankfully, no loud crashes are heard this time, neither does he sound irritated. Rather, the Akatsuki guy replies bluntly.

"That's fine. With the condition I'm in, I suppose it's necessary. Besides. It's not like there's anybody else around who's willing to treat me, un."

He goes quiet for a moment, making Kaminari believe that he has finished speaking. It is only when he speaks again that she learns differently. This time it is the Akatsuki guy who asks the questions.

"You wouldn't happen to have shampoo that  _doesn't_  smell like a springtime meadow, would you? You mentioned yesterday that your father lives here, too, so I was hoping that that you would have something around that smells more masculine, un." Pausing slightly, he adds, "And maybe a hairbrush? One more snarl and I'll have to cut it, un."

Her smile broadening, Kaminari doesn't hesitate to answer. "Oh, so  _that's_  what you were looking for! I thought I heard you digging through the cabinet! If that's the case, then you're looking in the wrong spot. Look under the sink instead; that's where Daddy's stuff is. There's a hairbrush under there that hasn't been used, too. I always keep an unused hairbrush around just in case. Hopefully you can get the tangles out, because I don't want you to cut your hair. It's way too pretty to cut!"

The Akatsuki replies instantly, almost sounding surprised. "Under the sink? It's really that easy? If your dad is anything like you, I thought for sure that he would put it in some complicated, hard-to-reach, location, un." After a moment of hesitation, he adds, "Thanks, un."

By this point, her smile has widened to a grin. "You're very welcome, Akatsuki guy! If you need anything else, just say so!"

With that said, Kaminari turns on her heel and skips back to the kitchen. In all honesty, this morning and last night have surprised her immensely. For someone who is supposed to be a dangerous criminal, the Akatsuki boy can be quite sociable. Sure, he still doesn't seem to like her much, but he is tolerating her far better than she expected. If he stays for another day or two instead of leaving right away, who knows? They might become friends like she has been hoping.

* * *

"Everything looks okay, but you should probably be careful. That spot I healed on your intestine is still pretty raw, and if you do too much moving around or heavy lifting, it might tear again. The areas where you were bleeding internally are completely healed, so you don't need to worry about that anymore. Unless you move the wrong way and shove one of your broken ribs there, of course. Then you'll have a whole lot to worry about."

Deidara sits rigidly on the edge of his bed, Kaminari on her knees in front of him. The girl presses a pair of glowing green palms to his abdomen, her dark eyebrows furrowed intently. To Deidara's disappointment, she is wearing the tan kimono-style dress and the forest green pants that she wore the first time he saw her. While the simple clothing looks nice on her, it doesn't suit her as well as the qipao. Not to mention that he isn't so fond of her ponytail, either. Kaminari has such thick, luscious, hair. Why on earth does she tie it up?

Doing his best to keep his disappointment over such petty things at bay, Deidara shifts his full attention to Kaminari's glowing green hands. Admittedly, her hands aren't soft like he thought they would be. Her palms are calloused, making it known that she doesn't spend her days lazing around. Even so, this isn't the flaxen-haired bomber's primary focus. What truly bothers him is the sensation of Kaminari's chakra. The feeling of her chakra invading his body is a foreign one, practically causing him to squirm. This doesn't come as a surprise, though. It is like this with every medic he has been to.

Meanwhile, having heard her words, Deidara responds despite his current discomfort. "I don't know whether to feel encouraged or discouraged by what you're saying. You're telling me that everything looks normal, but that I could fall apart by moving the wrong way. You make it sound like I'm a glass doll, un."

Apparently Kaminari finds his statement amusing, because the glowing ceases and she pulls her hands away from him. The instant her chakra has been removed from his body, the girl begins giggling.

"Oh no! That's not what I'm saying at all! You're this big, tough, Akatsuki guy who goes on dangerous missions. You are  _ **not**_  delicate! I just want you to be careful is all. No matter how tough you are, injuries can still take you down."

Once this is said, Kaminari places a hand against his abdomen yet again, this time feeling his ribs. Deidara never noticed it before, but where his ribs are broken, there is an array of hideous, plumb-colored, bruises. They are wide, marring, and cover a vast expanse of his torso. Thus, explaining Kaminari's concern. A human being would never be able to view the sight that is his torso without checking to see if something is seriously wrong. Deidara himself winces at how ugly the sight is.

Eventually the black-haired girl speaks again, this time removing a roll of white bandages from a medical kit that sits on the bedside table. While talking, she hands one end of the roll to Deidara and crawls onto the bed behind him.

"Hold that part of the bandage against your side, will you? That gives me a lot less work."

Shrugging, Deidara complies. Pressing the bandage against the indicated area, he feels as Kaminari wraps his torso tightly. Her proximity should bother him, as space between them is practically non-existent, but it doesn't. Instead, his focus is on what she is jabbering about. Normally the blonde bomber would zone out, but he is afraid that she might say something important.

"I'm not sure how much wrapping your ribs is going to help, but at least they'll heal in the right spot this way. Even if I don't know much, this must be safer than leaving them unwrapped. Once you're out of Chouwa, you need to find an actual medic, too. A real medic will be able to completely heal your ribs. They can also check the work I did to make sure that it's going to hold together. Like I've been saying, I know how to do some things, but I'm nowhere near the skill level of a medic. Sorry about that."

Once she finishes binding him, she tucks in the end and pats him down to make sure that no pieces are loose. Having some strange girl touch him all over his back and chest should feel incredibly strange for Deidara, yet it doesn't. Like previously, his concentration is on her words.

"I know you said that you want to leave Chouwa as soon as possible, but I'm still hoping you'll stay for a few days. Clay is heavy, and if you're going to buy a bunch of it and carry it to a place eons away from here, then you could definitely puncture a lung or bust open your intestine. Since you're with the Akatsuki I know you must be smart, but I've noticed that pride always gets in the way of men's genius. The smartest man on Earth would try doing push-ups with a broken arm if he thought it would make him look tough." Jabbing him roughly in the shoulder in what is most likely an intentional action, Kaminari adds sourly, "I hope you won't try walking all the way to your next destination with broken ribs and a load of clay just so you can prove to your Akatsuki buddies how strong you are. If you die alone in the middle of the woods, then you won't prove anything."

Deidara can't refrain from rolling his eyes at the girl. It has been a while since he has spent so much time around a female. Suddenly, he remembers exactly why this is. With their feminine faces, soft curves, and nice smells, they're very enticing, but once they start nagging they're much less appealing. This is proven to be the case right now.

Scowling, he responds to her in irritation. "Don't stereotype me, un. I'm not trying to prove anything to anybody. I'm just trying to meet back up with my partner so we can go on our next mission." Tilting his head to glare at her, he continues. "It's like I said before. My well-being is none of your concern, so don't worry about it, un. If I pace myself, I'm sure I'll be fine."

Sticking her tongue out in a peeved manner, Kaminari blows a raspberry while tightening his bandages. The entire time, he is certain that he sees an odd type of smugness painting the girl's features.

" _'I'm not trying to prove anything to anyone. I'm my own man. I'll pace myself, and I'll be fine, un'_ ," Kaminari mocks lightly in rough mimicry of his voice. Shaking her head, she adds, "You're like every guy I've met. You act invincible."

Giving his bandages one final pat, Kaminari crawls out from behind him and sets her feet on the floor. Once she's standing upright, she reaches for the gray shirt that he'd laid out for himself, along with his netting. Smiling slightly, she tosses the garments in his direction.

"Here are your clothes. You can come downstairs for breakfast whenever you want. I made enough for both of us." The girl takes several steps toward the door prior to getting in her final few thoughts. "I know how bad you want to leave, and I really can't blame you; I wouldn't want to be stuck at a stranger's house without my friends knowing where I'm at either. But if you decide to stay for a few days to let your intestine finish healing, my door is open. I don't care who you are. If you need a place to rest and get better, then I would never kick you out of my house."

Once she finishes speaking, Kaminari exits the room. Deidara can't even find the will to put on his shirt after she's gone. The only thing he can do is stare.

"Crazy, optimistic,  _and_  a nag. There's no doubt about it, un. She's the weirdest girl I've ever met. There's no way I'm sticking around."


	4. Chapter Four

_Disclaimer: I do not own Naruto._

* * *

**Chapter Four**

"Thanks for patching me up, and thanks for the food, but I'm out of here, un."

Kaminari stands in front of the sink washing dishes as the Akatsuki guy saunters toward her home's back exit. Giving the boy a small, disappointed, smile, Kaminari removes her hands from the soapy water and dries them off on a nearby towel. She moves toward him with the towel in her grasp, wanting to get in a final few words before he leaves.

"Okay. Good luck on the road. Make it back to your partner in one piece, and don't push yourself too hard."

The boy doesn't give much of a response to her farewell. He nods apathetically and gives an uncaring  _"un"_ , exiting with a swish of his torn cloak. The door leading to her back porch shuts with a firm  _click_ , and she hears his footsteps thump against the wood as he descends the stairs. Once he's gone, Kaminari forces herself to return to the sink to finish washing dishes. Unfortunately, the girl is at the task for less than two minutes before she finds herself rushing out of the kitchen, through the living room, and up to the large picture window in the front-most part of her house. It has a perfect view of the dirt trail that leads deeper into Chouwa.

Walking down the path in a slow, sauntering, manner is none other than the Akatsuki guy. Just like the day she saw him through the candy shop's window, his countenance is relaxed as much as threatening. Even without the straw hat concealing his face, the boy has a very commanding presence when he moves. His torn cloak with the red clouds sways lightly in the breeze as do his golden tresses, giving him an added aura of mystery.

As she watches him, a smile appears on Kaminari's face. This mysterious criminal with the commanding presence slept in her house last night, shared two meals with her, and used her bathroom. Yet, even if he was irritated with her at times, he never made a move to harm her. The most he would do is glare and snap at her. If the Akatsuki guy wanted to, he could've killed Kaminari in a hundred different ways. He didn't, though. The boy put up with her, and sometimes their conversation even passed for sociable. For an S-rank criminal, the Akatsuki guy wasn't so bad.

Suddenly, before Kaminari can do any more thinking on the subject, she sees as his posture falters from its threatening state. Hunching over, the boy raises an arm to cradle his abdomen. If Kaminari was directly in front of him, she is certain that she would see a grimace painting his features. It is for these reasons that the girl frowns in concern.

"Poor Akatsuki guy. I hope he'll be okay. Once he's carrying all that heavy clay through the woods by himself, there's no telling what could happen to him!" Her frown deepens. "Stubborn Akatsuki guy, telling me he'll be fine when he's in pain! I hope he doesn't hurt himself again…"

Kaminari continues watching for another minute until it finally hits her that she has work to do. The dishes won't wash themselves, and getting the elderly people their laundry is of the utmost importance. It is because of this that Kaminari pulls herself away from the struggling Akatsuki member to return to her chores. If he gets hurt she knows it's his own fault, because she  _did_  warn him. Yet, the girl worries anyway.

* * *

Deidara doesn't like admitting this, but he has felt sore all morning. He feels far better than he did yesterday. Although, after walking up the dirt path to the village's clay shop, he isn't sure that this is so true. His abdomen has gone from tender, to aching, to nearly throbbing. He has been on his feet for several hours at this point, and more than anything Deidara wishes that he could lay down. How the boy is going to make it to the Akatsuki's northeast branch hideout while carrying clay, he hasn't the slightest clue. He'll consider it lucky if he can make it to the halfway point.

Maybe Sasori was right in what he said to him yesterday. Perhaps he should have allowed the Puppet Master to purchase the clay while he returned to the hideout to recuperate. Had he followed this suggestion, Deidara certainly wouldn't be in the situation that he is in now…

"We've been through this before, Aimi! Give me my clay, and I'm out of here! It isn't hard to understand! Now let me buy your product, un!"

He peers through the window at the pudgy, gray-haired, shopkeeper. In turn, she stares back at him. Her facial expression screams with horror to say the least. As the woman verbalizes a response, her tone of voice is equally terrified.

"I'm sorry, Deidara, but I can't sell to you. You ran out of clay in only two weeks, and I have a feeling that know what you did with it. You're using my clay for illegal activities. Chouwa doesn't support illegal activities, so I refuse to sell you anything."

Deidara runs exasperated fingers through his hair. Within the two hours that he has been standing outside of her shop, she has given him this speech a dozen times. Aimi should know by this point that her  _"we don't sell to criminals"_  excuse won't be of any benefit. If it helped in the slightest, Deidara would have been up the path and out of Chouwa eons ago. It is for this reason that Deidara narrows his cobalt orbs into a glare as he speaks to Aimi once more.

"You should know right now that if I can't get my clay the easy way, I'm going to get my hands on it the hard way, un! My Akatsuki partner is Sasori of the Red Sand, and neither of us are too moral for stealing, un. Either you hand over my clay and make a profit, or Sasori and I will raid your store and get my clay for free." Narrowing his eyes more sharply than previously, he adds, "As well-known a shinobi as Sasori is, I can imagine that you are aware that he is deadly. You wouldn't want to bring Sasori of the Red Sand to Chouwa by refusing to sell to me, would you?"

Deidara keeps his posture as stiff and intimidating as possible while glowering at the shopkeeper. So aggravated and in pain is the flaxen-haired bomber that his facial expression has shifted to something lethal. With his jaw set firmly, an irate grimace etched into his face, and an emotion reflecting in his pointed blue slants that could possibly kill, there is no doubt that the boy's patience is wearing thin.

As he glares through the shop window at Aimi, Deidara struggles to keep from cradling his midsection. By now he has gone two hours without touching it, standing in this exact spot outside of the clay shop the entire time. The throbbing pain increases more with every passing second. Thus, refraining from nursing the area continues to grow more difficult.

Ignoring the agony using raw determination, Deidara persists in scowling. Apparently his threat is effective, as the woman's skin turns paler than snow. Along with this she begins shuddering, eyes filling with fear pure and undiluted. When she replies to Deidara after a long moment of being subjected to his intensive glower, the bomber nearly breaks his murderous scowl to smirk victoriously.

"S-Sasori of the R-Red Sand?  _H-He's_  your partner?" stutters the shopkeeper.

"Yes. He  _ **is**_ , un!" Deidara replies bluntly. "If I wanted to, I could have sent  _him_  to retrieve my clay instead of coming here myself. If you refused him the same way you're refusing me, he wouldn't stand here and accept it, un! He would have broken the door down, taken the clay, and left this backwater village by now! Knowing him, he might have taken one or two of you to add to his collection. The puppets he uses aren't made from wood, you know."

By this point, Aimi is shuddering so intensely that it surprises Deidara that she is still standing.

"I-I've heard that Sasori of the Red Sand is c-crazy. Insane is what the shinobi of Sunagakure call him!" Eyes similar in size to saucers, she asks, "You almost s-sent him here?!"

When he replies, the bomber doesn't hesitate. "Yes. I was very close to sending him here, but I didn't, un. I told him that the people in this village are scared to death of the Akatsuki, and that the last thing they need is two of us walking around. So when we passed the trail leading to Chouwa, I sent him on his way and came here on my own." Deepening his scowl, he adds, "But if you want me to go find him so that we can get my clay for free, I can easily arrange that, un."

Aimi doesn't get a chance to respond to his additional threat. Before she can utter a single word, a duo of young women appears from behind a set of shelves. Once they're out in the open, they make a dash for the clay shop's entrance. A third employee, the man who shoved Deidara the last time he'd been in Chouwa, calls out to them in panic as they near the door.

"No! Don't do it! Are you crazy?! For all we know, he's bluffing!"

Tucking a strand of hair behind her ear, one of the women faces him fearfully. "It doesn't matter if he's bluffing! He could be serious! Do you want to find out firsthand if he's telling the truth?!"

The man, who is now standing in the open himself, gulps nervously at the question. "No. I suppose I really  _don't_  want to find out…"

"Good! Then it looks like we're on the same page!" states the other woman. "We don't care what you or Aimi say! We're letting the guy in and selling him some clay! Chouwa's honor isn't worth becoming some rouge Suna shinobi's flesh puppet!"

When the same two women push past Aimi, unlatch the locks, and shove open the door, Deidara gives an inaudible sigh of relief. Now that he can finally purchase his clay, he is one step closer to reaching the nearest Akatsuki hideout. Why he didn't use Sasori as a bargaining chip before this, he isn't sure. Perhaps pain was preventing him from thinking of the idea, or perhaps it was pride. Either way, Deidara supposes that it doesn't matter now. Within twenty minutes he will have his clay and will be on his way out of this backwoods village.

* * *

"Here's your grandma's laundry, Fuji. It's washed, ironed, and folded just the way she likes it!"

Kaminari stands in front of the candy shop's counter wearing a beaming grin. In her arms is a neatly folded stack of simple, brown, clothing, which she extends toward the woman who was once her coworker. Peering up at her with chocolate-colored eyes, Fuji accepts the pile without so much as a nod or a smile. In turn, Kaminari's grin begins faltering. When Fuji reaches into the pocket of her crisp, white, apron in an emotionless fashion and gives her several bills in the same manner that she might a stranger, her smile fades entirely.

"Thank you for your services. I'm sure that my grandmother will be satisfied. Goodbye, and have a nice afternoon."

The empty wicker basket that she is holding droops in Kaminari's grasp. Gazing at the woman desperately, the girl does her best to speak with her. As she speaks, Fuji's expression shifts from emotionless to discontentment.

"Fuji, you're not going to act like this every time I deliver your grandma's laundry, are you? You did this when I stopped by last week, too. I was hoping it would pass." Despair flickering in her emerald orbs, she asks, "We're still friends, aren't we? I mean, I know you had to fire me because I helped that Akatsuki guy. Your uncle told you to! But this doesn't affect  _our_  relationship, does it? We always got along so well before."

Shutting her eyes tightly, Fuji releases a soft sigh. It is lengthy, and not once does Kaminari miss the disappointment that undertones it.

"I didn't want to do this, Kaminari, but I'm going to have to be blunt." Chocolate eyes unusually hard, Fuji states, "Nobody in Chouwa trusts you anymore. Not me, not my uncle, and not any of your past friends. I'm sorry, but you aided an Akatsuki, and everyone knows that you wouldn't hesitate to do it again. You're willing to help  _anyone_ , Kaminari; even criminals. If you're willing to help a rogue shinobi, then what else are you willing to do?"

Eyes widening, Kaminari gapes at the small woman in a mixture of hurt and surprise.

"Fuji, you're talking crazy! The guy had his hair tangled in door hinges, so of course I helped him! That doesn't make me evil!" Pausing, she adds, "And really, nothing makes him evil, either. We don't know anything about the Akatsuki guy's past, about why he joined the Akatsuki, or why he went rogue in the first place! What right do any of us have to judge him?"

Fuji sighs once more, this one sounding pained. "I wish you would have some common sense, Kaminari. In the end,  _why_  he became a criminal doesn't matter. What does matter is that he's dangerous. If you're willing to get near him, then you shouldn't be surprised that you're being shunned."

This time it is Kaminari who sighs. She toys with the handles of the empty wicker basket, sorrow heard in her tone.

"It sounds strange when you put it like that. You're making it sound like  _I'm_  the criminal." Freeing one of her hands from the basket to tuck a loose, black, strand back into her ponytail, she adds, "Just because everyone in Chouwa is shunning me doesn't mean that I'm going to stay away from him. You saw me help him once, and all of you are against me forever because of it. If you're all judgmental enough to shun me because of that one thing I did, then maybe deciding to help the Akatsuki guy was the right thing to do."

By this point it is apparent that Fuji is growing frustrated, because the short woman rakes her fingers through her hair while wearing a deep frown.

"You really don't have any common sense, do you? Every person in Chouwa has you branded as a traitor, and you're still going to keep approaching him." Features growing desperate, she continues. "If you start staying away from him now and continue to do it every time he comes to the village, the shunning will pass after a while. It will take time, but eventually people in Chouwa will trust you again. Are you really willing to let the chance to be integrated back into the village pass you by?"

Opening her mouth partway, Kaminari is prepared to respond to the woman. She already knows exactly what she plans on telling her. All afternoon Kaminari has gone from house to house delivering people their clothing, and all afternoon she has been met with disdain. Distant glares, whispers, cruel shouting, the occasional rock being tossed her way, Kaminari has been forced to endure all of this. It isn't just this afternoon that the girl has had to put up with the townspeople's cruelty, but every time she has come to town throughout the past two weeks.

Honestly, the most enjoyable interaction that she has had with a human being recently was with the Akatsuki guy himself. Certainly he was a bit moody and short-tempered, but as a whole he wasn't bad. If anything, Kaminari would dare say that they're bordering on friendship. Why on Earth would Kaminari trade a potential friend for harsh, judgmental, prudes who will only accept her once she decides to conform to the village mold?

Before the fourteen-year-old can share a single one of these thoughts, however, a shout from one of the candy shop's customers distracts her. The person's words sound incredibly frightened.

"No! It's  _ **him**_  again! What is he doing here?!"

Upon hearing these words, Kaminari immediately forgets about Fuji and turns around to face the shop's picture window. She already feels it in her gut that she knows who the person is talking about. When the girl gazes across the street to see a head of long, blonde, hair along with a tattered cloak, her assumption is immediately confirmed. The Akatsuki guy is exiting Aimi's shop with several large containers of clay in tow. His posture is slouched and he seems more than a bit fatigued, but nonetheless, Kaminari notes that he appears satisfied.

It has been well over three hours since they parted ways back at her house, so she can guess that he had difficulty convincing Aimi to sell to him since he is leaving the clay shop only now. The fact that he was unable to convince the elderly lady to sell to him sooner disappoints Kaminari. He has been on his feet for hours at this point, and no doubt has a long way to walk. With broken ribs, freshy-healed wounds that are still tender, and having just recovered from dehydration, Kaminari wonders how far he will make it. Not far, probably. He doesn't show it, but he must be in horrible pain!

When his posture slouches farther after walking several steps, Kaminari instantly frowns. There is no doubt about it. The Akatsuki guy is  _definitely_  in pain.

Noticing the direction of her gaze, as well as the way in which she angles herself toward the door, Fuji's frown deepens. Peeking across the street at the cloaked boy, then back at Kaminari, she eyes the girl seriously.

"I know what you're thinking, Kaminari, and as a word of advice, don't do it. The more you go near him, the harder it will be for Chouwa to accept you back. You're trading everything you've ever known for an Akatsuki. Are you really willing to do that?"

Kaminari doesn't answer. Then again, she doesn't have to. Facing the counter, the girl meets the woman's firm gaze with determined green eyes. During all the years that she has lived in Chouwa, Kaminari has never felt such determination. Neither has Fuji seen it. When Kaminari turns back around and sprints toward the door, they are both aware that her decision is final. They are also aware that once a decision of Kaminari's is final, she never turns back from it.

* * *

Deidara was wrong. Purchasing his clay took ten minutes rather than twenty. The duo of women who granted him entry into the shop rushed about frantically, gathering the contents of his usual order and shoving him out the door as quickly as possible. When Aimi had her back turned, one of them tucked in an extra mound of clay as an apology for keeping him locked out of the store. Throughout the duration of their services, Deidara had to refrain from smirking in amusement. It truly amazes him the lengths that people will go through to ensure that they are not made into puppets.

Truth be told, his man Sasori would never craft mere civilians into his precious artwork, but Deidara decided not to inform them of this. The last thing he wants is to risk being barred from Aimi's shop again the next time he's in Chouwa.

Feeling satisfied despite abdominal pain and several hours of standing, Deidara saunters down the dirt path leading away from the village. Due to his injuries as well as the excess clay he was given, his load feels far heavier than usual. This is so much the truth that he feels his posture slouching after walking as little as four meters. By the time he journeys five meters, the stinging of his broken ribs has intensified to nearly twice that of the previous amount. If Deidara wanted to lay down somewhere and rest earlier, then he unquestionably wants to now. He doesn't allow the thought to tempt him too much, though. He simply hoists up the large pouches of clay and pushes onward.

The earthen streets, which were bustling with people earlier, are barren now. As he passes by Chouwa's candy shop, a shop that sells glass rocks, and something comparable to a mercantile, he catches sight of civilians peeking out at him fearfully. When he glances inside the windows with a deadly grimace, they duck out of view as if they were never there. In turn, Deidara scoffs.

"Chouwa is such an isolated and paranoid village, un. How can a place like this possibly produce a person like Kaminari?"

Hoisting his clay pouches up farther, he continues up the path with a fresh aura of tenacity. The sooner he can escape Chouwa, the better. Sadly for Deidara, however, he doesn't make it far. He doesn't even get past the large front window of the candy shop.

"Hey, Akatsuki guy! It looks like you got Aimi to sell you some clay! Way to go!"

Three seconds are all it takes for a familiar, raven-haired, girl to appear beside him. The door to the village's candy store echoes loudly as it slams shut, suggesting that this is where she surfaces from. Cradled in her arms is an empty basket, revealing to Deidara that she made a delivery to someone within the shop's walls. She mentioned to him at some point that she does laundry for people, and this just so happens to be the day that she is making her rounds to return clothing.

Sighing, Deidara does his best to ignore her and continues up the trail. Unsurprisingly, Kaminari refuses to take the hint and keeps perfectly in step. She jabbers away the entire time.

"I don't know how you did it, but I'm really glad that you convinced her! I was afraid that she would keep you standing outside all day! Aimi can be really stubborn and set in her ways. Then again, so can everyone in Chouwa!" The girl leaps directly in his path of travel and walks backwards while making an inquiry. "Do you need help carrying your clay? No offense, but it looks heavy, and you're probably still sore. Heavy lifting and broken ribs aren't a good combination, you know."

Scowling in a goaded fashion, Deidara attempts stepping around her without a word in response. As expected, this method of evasion is unsuccessful. She moves directly in front of him every time, meeting his livid gaze with lively emerald orbs. To Deidara's surprise, beneath the girl's energetic exterior is a tinge of earnestness. Once his attempts at stepping around her reach five, astonishingly enough, the earnestness seen her eyes becomes the dominant emotion.

Placing a small, calloused, hand on one of his shoulders, Kaminari prevents him from trying to move around her a sixth time. She speaks again, her tone nothing short of disgusted.

"I know you can hear me, Akatsuki guy! It's rude to walk away from people when they're talking to you! Especially if the person talking to you is trying to help!" Huffing, she blows thick bangs of her face in frustration. "Didn't your mom teach you any manners?"

Glower intensifying, the flaxen-haired bomber is unable to detain his sarcastic bite. "With as obsessive as you are, I bet you'd like to know that, un. Now get out of my way. I want out of this backwater village."

Arms crossed over her ample bosom, she meets his cobalt irises with a glare of her own. With her nose scrunching and the puffing of her breath shifting raven bangs, the girl hardly looks threatening. If anything, Deidara would compare her to a kitten struggling to look like a tiger. Even so, there is no missing the scolding in her tone.

"I know that you want out of here. Who says I'm trying to stop you? All I'm saying is that you should let me help carry your clay to the edge of Chouwa. You're still hurt! If I don't help, you'll skewer one of your lungs or another intestine before you can make it halfway there!" Poking him roughly in the shoulder, she inquires, "You don't want to hurt yourself, do you?"

Narrowing his eyes, Deidara tries moving past the girl again. This time, to his relief, he is successful in this endeavor. As he saunters up the trail, he replies bluntly.

"I already told you that I'm not going to hurt myself. Your patchwork healing job will be sufficient enough for me to make it back to my partner. I'm going to be fine un."

More than anything, Deidara wishes that these words were true. As frustrating as it is, though, they're not. His abdomen throbs bitterly. With every step the throbbing increases, as if his broken ribs are expressing disdain. Nevertheless, he continues marching stubbornly with his clay in tow. A few seconds' pass and he readjusts the massive clay pouches, but it isn't any use. Upon shifting them so that they rest higher on his waist, the flaxen-haired bomber's pain increases. As a result, his body twitches and his posture begins stooping.

Kaminari, who stands less than a meter behind him, doesn't miss a single moment of agony. An expression of concern on her face by now rather than disgust, she rushes to his side. Once at his side, the girl immediately reaches out a hand to help steady him. Tucking the basket that she is carrying beneath an arm, she steadies him using her opposite hand as well. It is only after she has one of Deidara's shoulders in each hand that she elaborates on his response.

"Sorry, Akatsuki guy, but you don't look like you're going to be fine to me. You look like you're about to collapse. It shouldn't be surprising, though. When someone is recovering from major injuries, collapsing after walking around for too long seems pretty normal." Pausing, she inquires with a troubled pout, "I can still help you carry your clay, and better than that, my house is still open. You're not really going to try walking endless kilometers back to your Akatsuki partner when you could be resting and letting your ribs get better, are you?"

Irritated by the feel of her touch, Deidara jerks free. The instant he does this, he plans on telling her that he  _absolutely_  plans on walking kilometers to get to the other Akatsuki members and that he doesn't need any help  _ **at all**_  toting his clay. Before he can force the words out, however, a particularly raw wave of pain strikes. His insides feel like they're being stung, causing Deidara to keel over partway. The wince that paints his features isn't missed, neither is the brief yet quiet groan he releases.

Grassy orbs widening, Kaminari doesn't hesitate to support him once more. Gently placing one of his arms around her shoulders, she does her best to help the flaxen-haired Akatsuki into an upright position. Once he is standing more so than before, she assists him in teetering forward step-by-step.

As much as he wants to, Deidara doesn't protest. The aching of his tattered ribcage doesn't allow it. Not to mention that, suddenly, he can see that Kaminari is right. If he tries carrying his clay up the path and out of the village, he will most likely impale one of his organs and collapse on the trail before he can make it to the halfway point. Deidara of the Akatsuki, killed in a tiny village in the middle of nowhere by punctured organs. He honestly isn't liking the sound of that…

It is for these reasons that Deidara groans. His groan isn't only of irritation, but is also one of compliance. Apparently Kaminari recognizes this, because she grins victoriously at the sound of it.

"What do you say, Akatsuki guy? Are you willing to stay at my place and rest up?"

Head drooping, he releases an aggravated sigh. "Under  _ **any**_  other circumstances, I would say no, un. I think you're crazy and way too naïve." Pausing slightly, he adds, "But in this case, I guess I don't have a choice. I'll spend the rest of today resting, but only because it's necessary, un. I'm sure I'll feel better by tomorrow, and when I do, I'm gone."

* * *

Not once does Kaminari miss the way she is scowled at from the windows of shops and houses. Those who don't scowl at her gape in undiluted shock. There is one primary trail in Chouwa that leads to her house and out of the village, and unfortunately, the buildings running alongside it get thicker before thinning out. Once she and the Akatsuki guy reach her home, it isn't a secret that the entire village will know that she has again been fraternizing with a criminal.

They currently amble past the set of houses where her childhood playmates live, along with acquaintances of her father. They glare at her sullenly through translucent glass, shake their heads dejectedly, and one girl that Kaminari once called her best friend motions to her with a particularly obscene hand gesture. Kaminari can't refrain from flinching at the gesture from her past friend. True, she expected it, but it hits far more hurtfully than she imagined.

Another girl appears beside her past friend, this girl being her friend's elder sister. The oldest of the two shoves open the window that they're peeking out, shooting Kaminari the same bold gesture. They shout bitterly the whole time, their words impossible to ignore.

"Idiot! I hope he drags you into the woods and kills you!"

"He'll murder you in your sleep, Kaminari, and I won't come to your funeral when he does!"

It is blatant by their facial expressions that they want the girl to respond. Kaminari is certain that they would love to hear her shout back defensively. However, she doesn't take the bait. She averts her gaze from them, trains her eyes on the path ahead, and continues onward while supporting the Akatsuki guy. Kaminari does everything she can to pretend that the girls don't exist. Of course, this doesn't prevent further shouting from the duo. If anything, they grow louder.

"Go ahead, Kaminari! Keep walking and ignore us! It doesn't change the fact that an insane Akatsuki is going to rape and murder your naïve butt!"

"Even if he doesn't kill you, it doesn't matter! By the time the rest of Chouwa is through with you, you'll wish that he did! Don't think that we'll let you get away with helping an evil criminal!"

Once they're far enough up the trail so that their words can no longer be heard, Kaminari sighs internally. Fuji doesn't trust her, and neither do people who were once her playmates. The idea that her friends would turn on her so easily just because she wants to show a person some humanity is more than disappointing. It is truly saddening.

Having others glare at her from their windows doesn't work to lessen the sadness, neither does the raw egg that gets tossed her way. It is certainly a good thing that she is carrying the wicker basket, because the egg hits that rather than Kaminari.

Kaminari doesn't realize it, but throughout the duration of their walk the Akatsuki guy remains alert. The hostile glares, frowns of pity, harsh shouts, none of it escapes him. The only time it occurs to Kaminari exactly how much attention he has been paying is when the raw egg strikes her basket. He speaks for the first time since accepting her aid, and to say the least, his tone is derisive.

"I hope you realize that the pain you're putting yourself through is pointless, un. You're losing the trust of every person in your village, and you aren't even getting a friend out of it." Cobalt eyes filled with scoffing, he adds, "I'm not your friend, and that I never will be, un."

The girl knows that his words should hurt her, but oddly, they don't. Pulling his arm more securely around her shoulders, she gives him a small smile.

"You don't have to lecture me, you know. It would be nice if we could be friends, but I'm not expecting it. Nobody can force friendship." Pausing slightly, she adds, "Once we get to know each other, though, who knows? You could be wrong. For all you know, we could end up being very good friends."

People continue scowling at her from their windows, but for the first time since starting down the path, Kaminari doesn't notice. The only thing she pays attention is the jeering seen in the Akatsuki's cobalt gaze. Like before, the girl does not feel hurt or offended by his mockery. If anything, she views the boy's reaction as a challenge.

"Like I would ever become friends with someone so blindly optimistic, un. As an Akatsuki I don't make friends with too many people, but the friends that I do have are nothing at all like you. My friends are open-minded, inventive, and view the world abstractly. We don't talk to every stranger we see and look at the world as a big rainbow, un. We connect with life in an artistic sense."

Once he has concluded speaking, Kaminari giggles. As a result, the boy peers at her with a raised brow. He doesn't sound offended when he inquiries about her laughter. Rather, he seems uncertain.

"What is it, un?" he asks simply. "Is something I said funny?"

Kaminari nods eagerly. "Yes, actually. You just proved to me that you have no idea what I'm like. You didn't learn anything at all the first day you met me, or yesterday when I patched you up." Releasing another giggle, she continues. "Based on everything you just shared, I think we're going to get along great! Sure, I'm perkier and more smiley, but we're not too different besides that."

Upon hearing this, the boy sighs. "It's just like I said. Blindly optimistic, un."

The grin on Kaminari's face never vanishes. Even when another egg gets thrown at her, her smile stays securely in place. She has a feeling that the next day or so will go well.

* * *

"That's it, Akatsuki guy. We don't have to rush. Take it slow. One stair a time."

The rest of the walk to Kaminari's place of residence was a slow one. Though the Akatsuki guy tried hiding it, every step he took pained him. Winces, sharp intakes of breath, the occasional groan, none of it was missed by Kaminari. As a result, Kaminari insisted that they walk slow. By the time they reached her home, she found herself carrying his pouches of clay and supporting most of his weight. Right now, as they climb the stairs from the main level of her house to the second floor, Kaminari supports more of his weight than before. Of course, she doesn't mind this. If it keeps his body intact, the girl has no complaints.

Meanwhile, the Akatsuki guy replies to her remark. To say the least, his tone is exasperated.

"I know how to climb stairs, un. You don't have to direct me."

Grinning widely, Kaminari meets his irritated gaze cheerfully. "I know I don't  _have_  to direct you. I'm only directing you because I want to. It's part of being a good nurse."

The boy sighs. "If only I had a nurse that was less peppy and had actual medical training."

Kaminari responds while helping him up the next stair. Her grin never fades.

"I wish that too, to be honest. If I had real training, I could completely heal your ribs! Would that be great, or what?!" Giggling, she adds, "I don't wish for the part about being less peppy, though. I like my personality. Every day looks brighter when you're smiling!"

He gives an additional sigh at her response. "Kaminari, your smile is so bright that it's blinding."

She helps him up the final stair and into the main hallway. The whole time she replies with her smile increasing.

"Thanks! I'll take that as a compliment!"

Kaminari doesn't miss the way he narrows his eyes. "Of course you will, un. Why would I expect your reaction to be different?"

Keeping his arm secure around her shoulders, Kaminari supports him as they ascend the hallway. The Akatsuki's assigned guestroom is toward the center, giving them a sizable amount of space to cross. As they trek across the wood planks, Kaminari speaks once more.

"With as much as you slept yesterday, I don't know if you're tired, but you should try resting anyway. That tender spot on your intestine isn't going to finish healing itself if you're up walking around. Neither are the places where I stopped the internal bleeding. Whether you like it or not, healing should be your top priority, Akatsuki guy."

After she is finished, Kaminari glances at him. His cobalt eyes remain narrowed. Luckily, it isn't in hostility. Rather, he wears an expression of irritation. When he replies, his tone is equally cross.

"And I suppose while I'm trying to rest, you're going to hover over me like the excellent nurse you are, right? If that's the case, then I would hardly call the time I spend here  _'resting'_ , un."

The girl doesn't hesitate to answer his question. Unsurprisingly, she does so with a giggle.

"Hover over you? Of course not! Silly Akatsuki guy. I have way too much to do to be with you every second! I'll check on you every hour or two, and I'll have to examine your injuries and change your bandages, but I'll be out of your hair besides that. I need to get ninety candles made by tomorrow, and that isn't going to happen if I'm hovering over you like a mother hen."

Much to Kaminari's astonishment, aggravation vanishes from the Akatsuki's features. In its place is curiosity. Cobalt slants brimming with interest, he makes an inquiry.

"Candles? I thought that you were in the laundry washing business, un."

"I am," answers the raven-haired girl simply. "I spend part of my week washing clothes, part of it is spent baking, and then I usually take a day to make candles. I guess I do a bit of everything since the elderly pay me for it."

Curiosity never leaves the Akatsuki guy. Furrowing his brow skeptically, he asks an additional question.

"What does someone like you need money for? You're a kid living in a backwoods village with your father, un. It's not like you're spending money on jewelry or fun, and your father pays the bills, so I know that you're not earning money for that."

Very suddenly, Kaminari's cheerful demeanor decreases. She retains her smile and she still has a bounce to her step, though it comes off as forced rather than genuine. Apparently the boy notices her change in demeanor, because his brow furrows farther. When Kaminari averts her gaze from him and looks at the floor, he frowns in puzzlement. Kaminari doesn't notice this, though. She is far too occupied with maintaining her jovial disposition.

"Daddy paying the bills. Yeah. A person would think that," she states with a strained laugh.

Kaminari doesn't say anything more. Neither does the flaxen-haired Akatsuki. They walk the final few steps to his guestroom, Kaminari using her free hand to shove open the door. She sets the pouches of clay beside the nightstand and helps him settle into bed before moving toward the exit. Loitering in the doorway, the girl says one final thing prior to leaving the room. Her tone of forced optimism is securely in place.

"I'll change your bandages and check your wounds in a couple hours. Rest well, and holler if you need anything. The noises in this house echo with it being so big and quiet, so I will definitely hear you."

With that said, Kaminari takes her leave. She doesn't see it, but the boy stares after her with a small, inquisitive, frown.

* * *

_Later_

Deidara has had many problems in the fourteen years of his young life. His hair is so thick that sometimes his brush will break when attempting to detangle it. Before he trained the mouths on his hands to stay closed when he isn't using them, he'd formed the habit of accidentally biting himself. Not to mention the times when he has run out of clay when he needs it the most. Today, however, Deidara's problem is very basic. It is a problem that he can't ever remember dealing with.  _Boredom_.

Once he made himself comfortable, Deidara planned on snoozing for the remainder of the day. However, he slept for less than an hour. He woke up and has been unable to resume slumber since then. Deidara has been rotating between sculpting clay birds, flipping through the books Kaminari left on the desk on the opposite side of the room, and staring longingly out the window. For the past three hours he has been doing this, the only exception being the period of time when Kaminari came in to examine him. Although, with Deidara healing well, she wasn't in here for long. Between examining him using her chakra and changing his bandages, it only took fifteen minutes before she was gone again.

As strange as it is, Deidara is starting to miss the crazy girl's presence. She might talk too fast and maybe she is excessively cheerful, but at least Kaminari gives him someone to talk to. Admittedly, he isn't used to being by himself. When on missions, Deidara always has Sasori to talk to. Then, when at the hideout, he usually finds himself conversing with Kisame, Kakuzu, and at rare times, Hidan. Sure, most of the time he is crafting his clay bombs, but this is rarely done in silence. Whether he is speaking to his partner or another Akatsuki member, Deidara converses while creating his art.

It is true that Deidara hasn't been a member of the Akatsuki for long, but during his time as a member, he has grown accustom to having others around. Suddenly being thrust into solitude seems surreal…

Putting the finishing touches on one of his birds, but not bothering to infuse it with chakra due to a lack of space for detonation, Deidara shifts his gaze to the window. More than anything he wants to go outside. If he is injured and alone, then he would at least like to detonate some of his bombs. Nothing makes a person feel better than igniting large-scale explosions, Deidara always says. The way the volatile colors light up the sky before vanishing a few seconds later is a sight that is truly inspiring! Of course, Kaminari would block his path and usher him back to bed before he could get as far as the door, so going outside is an impossible thing. It isn't worth blowing Kaminari to pieces or threatening her, either. She's right, after all. He really  _is_  too badly injured to be up and about.

Fantasies of going outside waning, Deidara sighs and shifts his gaze to the desk on the other side of the room. He would read one of the books that are stacked atop it, but honestly, they're very boring. They aren't works of fiction or books on philosophy, but rather, they are about things such as science and medicine. He'd only read through the first page of each of them before returning them to the desk and creating sculptures. He was satisfied with crafting clay birds for a while, and even expanded to other animals. Of course, Deidara can only make so many sculptures before becoming dissatisfied. Being unable to detonate his artwork is very frustrating.

Setting the piece he is currently crafting on the bedside table, Deidara transfers his gaze once more. This time he looks toward the exit. After sitting for multiple hours and having Kaminari recheck his injuries, his abdomen isn't nearly as sore as it was earlier. It is because of this that Deidara has a half mind to do some low-level exploring. While he hasn't spent too much time in Kaminari's house, he has seen enough of it to know that there are a fair number of rooms on the second level. With as crazy as the girl is, it would make sense that there might be something interesting laying around.

Once his clay is set aside, Deidara stares at the door hesitantly for an entire minute. This isn't because he feels guilty about potentially searching another person's home out of boredom, but because he questions if the effort will be worth it. Will he find something to occupy his attention, such as a book that is interesting or a box of secrets, or will he come across dull rooms filled with piles of laundry and candle molds? The latter thought is almost enough to cause Deidara to groan in agony. Of course, upon mulling it over, he immediately realizes that stumbling across work-related materials is better than sitting here doing nothing. It is for this reason that the boy shoves himself out of bed and saunters toward the door.

Bare feet contacting coarse floorboards, Deidara pushes open the door and gazes into the narrow corridor. Looking to his left, he sees six concealed rooms along with the top of the staircase. Even from the home's upper level he can hear the clanging of pots and pans, suggesting that Kaminari is still making candles. Emerging fully into the hallway and walking several paces to the left, the noises grow louder. Along with metallic clanging comes cheerful humming, as well as the lyrics,  _'...stir it with a gentle wrist, and this is how I melt my candle wax!'_. Deidara grimaces at the sound her singing. The girl's soprano voice is so sweet that he feels he should go to the dentist.

Knowing that Kaminari is stooped in her task, and that she probably will be for another hour, Deidara ambles toward the corridor's opposite end. He passes by the bathroom as well as his assigned guestroom without a second thought. Moving deeper into the house than he has ever considered going before, he passes multiple closed doors. All of them appear faultlessly identical, making it difficult to choose which one he should open. Once he is at the tail end of the hallway he looks each of the doors over, assessing them to see if any appear more enticing than the others. As expected, none of them do.

Deidara shrugs his shoulders in nonchalance. What was he expecting? For one of the doors to be vividly painted? This is Chouwa. Of course everything in this house looks the same! When he turns the knob of the door closest to him only to find an empty closet, Deidara's thoughts are confirmed. This house is in the backwater village of Chouwa, so it will no doubt be grotesquely plain. Stepping across the hallway and shoving open the door parallel to the closet, he finds that this one leads to a room bare of everything besides dust. At this, the boy sighs.

"An empty closet and an empty room. This is exciting, un."

Pulling both doors closed, Deidara saunters over to the next one. This door is on his left and is three rooms away from his guestroom. Frowning slightly, half expecting to stumble across another empty space, Deidara turns the knob and flings it open. When he gazes inside of this room, however, he ends up being surprised. It certainly isn't empty. With a twin-sized bed, a desk, a wardrobe, and feminine touches such as floral print curtains, Deidara would say that this is Kaminari's room. However, these aren't the only things that Kaminari's room consists of. Put simply, her bedroom is  _incredible_.

Spread atop Kaminari's desk and scattered across the floor are thick pieces of paper and numerous portions of canvas. From what Deidara can see from the doorway, graphite doodles are coating the pages and amongst the doodles are splotches of acrylic. They aren't accidental splotches. Rather, they are intentional. It would be apparent to nearly anyone that the paper had been used to mix paint. As for the portions of canvas, they are bursting vividly with color. Trees, animals, abstract works consisting of designs and shapes, the canvases contain a bit of everything. Several pieces of canvas are half-painted and half covered by graphite, as if they are not yet finished.

The only thing more enchanting than her desk and the floor are her bedroom walls. One wall is covered by an odd assortment of trees. Everything from green trees, to autumn trees of reds and oranges, to palm and birch trees are painted. It's as if Kaminari couldn't decide which tree to paint, so she painted them all. Another wall is covered by odd contrasts of summer beaches and winter glaciers. To Deidara, it looks as though she was trying to make both seasons merge harmoniously. Oddly enough, her vision came together well. As for the third wall, it doesn't contain a specific scene. It is coated by abstract shapes and patterns, one side being done in warm colors and the other in cool colors. The center of that wall, conversely, wasn't painted using either of these schemes. It is painted in black and white. As strange as it is, Kaminari's abstract work came together fantastically.

To some, this room would look like a warzone. To others, the bizarre works would make it look like a cry for help. To Deidara, on the other hand, it doesn't look like either of these things. The only thing Deidara sees is  _art_.


	5. Chapter Five

_Disclaimer: I do not own Naruto._

* * *

**Chapter Five**

Ninety candles. It took Kaminari from midafternoon all the way into the late evening, but she managed to make over ninety candles. The only thing left for her to do is remove them from their molds tomorrow morning so that she can deliver them. Some houses in Chouwa have electricity, her own for example, but there are many others that do not. It is for this reason that candles in this village are an absolute necessity. Knowing how set in their ways Chouwa's civilians are, candles will remain a necessity for generations to come. Kaminari isn't complaining though. So long as she can reap the benefits.

Stretching her arms and arching her back, Kaminari works her body out of the bent position that it has been in for most of the evening. One thing that she hates about making candles is the amount of time spent hovering over the stovetop. Considering how she is taller than the average female and how the stove is shorter than the average stove, spending too much time in front of it never ceases to give her a crick in the back.

Happy that her work is done for the day, the girl gives one final stretch and exits the kitchen. As she makes her way through the living room and to the staircase, her thoughts are on the Akatsuki guy. As a matter of fact, her thoughts were on the Akatsuki guy the entire time she was making candles. Is he awake or sleeping? If he's awake, what is he doing? Twiddling his thumbs? Counting floorboards? Reading the medical books she left on the desk? How it didn't occur to her earlier, she doesn't know, but the Akatsuki guy must be excruciatingly bored. Being stuck in a dull room with nothing to do but read text books and stare out the window? It would be crazy if he wasn't bored by now!

When she was partway through her task, Kaminari almost considered taking a break to spend time with him. Sure, she isn't his ideal companion, but talking to her must be better than talking to nobody. Of course, after rethinking it, Kaminari decided not to. He mentioned wanting to be left alone beforehand, and he sounded very serious. As she ascends the stairs, the girl questions again whether should check on him. Maybe she should pass his room and go straight to her own. She has some hobbies in there that she has taken to passing the time with when she isn't doing chores. Perhaps she should continue with her hobbies and leave the Akatsuki guy be…

Upon reaching the second level, Kaminari finds herself loitering near the top of the staircase. More than anything, she would like to spend the remainder of the evening with the Akatsuki guy. If he is willing to tolerate her, there are a lot of things that she wants to talk about! As a ninja who has most likely traveled to each of the shinobi nations and all the places in between, there is so much she could learn about the world from him! Deciding whether to knock on the door of his guestroom or pass it by is truly an excruciating decision.

Much to Kaminari's surprise, however, she doesn't have to decide. Astonishingly, the Akatsuki guy calls to her. The boy's beckoning shouts don't come from his guestroom, but instead, they come from  _her_  room.

"Hey, Kaminari! Come here, un! I have a bone to pick with you!"

His tone doesn't necessarily sound angry. Rather, the Akatsuki sounds mildly irritated. Then again, whether he is angry, irritated, or even joyful doesn't make much of a difference to Kaminari. Upon pinpointing the direction of his voice, the girl gapes toward her bedroom in shock. It takes a moment for reality to sink in, but once it does, she sprints forward in panic.

"No! Bad Akatsuki guy! Who said you could go inside my bedroom?!  _I_ never did!"

Once she is standing outside her doorway, Kaminari doesn't take time to observe what the boy is doing. She doesn't notice it that he standing in the center of the room gaping at her walls, neither does she notice that he has several painted canvases in hand. She scrunches her nose and crosses her arms while fixing him with an appalled stare.

"Is this what you do with every person who takes you in? You snoop through their bedroom when they aren't around? I'm ashamed of you, Akatsuki guy!"

Several seconds pass where he doesn't respond. During this period of silence, Kaminari takes time to examine his countenance. While his voice sounded a tad irritated, amazingly, his expression doesn't appear this way at all. The boy looks from the walls, to Kaminari's painted canvases, and back again. As he does this he appears astounded, if not impressed. In turn, Kaminari grows confused. When she heard him inside of her room, she thought for sure that the Akatsuki guy would be going through her wardrobe, the drawers of her desk, and perhaps the drawer of her nightstand. The fact that he is admiring her random paintings is definitely something that catches her off guard.

What the boy says in response to her accusatory statement is even more surprising. His tone of irritation is back, though he isn't upset for any of the reasons that she would have expected. Turning to face her, he gestures to the wall behind him. Kaminari notes that this is the wall that she covered in various species of trees nearly a year ago.

"Forget the fact that I was snooping! What I want to know is why you would hoard such sublime works of art all to yourself! These are masterpieces, un! There's so much  _vision_  here!"

Eyebrows raising, Kaminari gawks while entering her bedroom.

"That's why you're in my room? You're looking at my paintings?" A smile crossing her face, Kaminari giggles. "I'm kind of surprised. You're a big, tough, Akatsuki member. I didn't think that S-rank criminals liked art. Especially not my random, off-the-wall, paintings that I make in my spare time."

Kaminari isn't sure what it is that causes it, but the Akatsuki's facial expression shifts. He no longer appears impressed with her artwork. Based on the way his slanted cobalt eyes widen and on the firm set of his mouth, Kaminari would almost say that he appears angry. The girl doesn't know why, but she feels like she spat in the boy's face and insulted his grandma. It doesn't feel at all like she made a statement about the bizarreness of a criminal enjoying art. Not with the way he is glaring at her…

"What you're saying is completely wrong, un! Art isn't for pansies! Art is for everyone, including me! Art is my  _entire life_ , un! Art is the reason why I wake up in the morning! It's the reason why I  _breathe_! If I don't have art, then I might as well not be alive!"

As the Akatsuki guy rants, Kaminari is unable to stop gaping. Under normal circumstances she would think that he is being sarcastic or even that he is joking. The intensity of his cobalt eyes says it all, though. When the Akatsuki guy speaks of his dedication to art, he is deathly serious.

Not bothering to conceal her astonishment, Kaminari replies with grassy orbs the size of disks. Although she is surprised, she makes it known that she feels bad about her prior remark as well.

"You really like art that much? In that case, I didn't mean to offend you, Akatsuki guy. I'm sorry. You surprised me is all." A grin crossing her face, she adds, "Now that you're bringing it up, I don't know why I never noticed! The reason you come to Chouwa in the first place is to buy mass quantities of clay. It would only make sense that you like art! Since you use clay, your art style is different from mine, but that doesn't matter. You're a fellow artist, and I should have more respect. I'm sorry again."

The golden-haired Akatsuki narrows his eyes, yet he also gives a nod of compliance. "I'll say that it's fine, but only because you are apologizing and because you healed my wounds. If you were anyone else, I would kill you for insulting me, un."

Kaminari can't help feeling a smidge afraid at that last statement. Nothing but seriousness is reflected in his gaze… Then again, she isn't too afraid. He hasn't killed her yet, has he? Would he really kill her now?

She doesn't have a chance to mull these thoughts over farther. The Akatsuki guy speaks again. He no longer appears angry. Rather, his brow is furrowed inquisitively.

"That, and I have decided not to kill you because I want you to answer a question." Holding up a sheet of canvas, one bearing a vividly painted rainbow in the center of a turbulent thunderstorm, he asks, "What is art to you, un?"

Upon hearing his question, Kaminari doesn't respond immediately. Not because she doesn't want to, but because she isn't sure how to answer. She has never been asked such a thing. Nibbling her lower lip, the girl turns to observe her bedroom walls. There is the one directly in front of her, which bears the trees. There is the wall to her right bearing the beaches and the glaciers. Then there is the wall behind her containing the abstract piece. Her bedroom has a fourth wall as well, the wall to her left, but this one is blank. She has a lot of ideas for it, but unfortunately, is unable to make them turn out well on canvas. If her ideas aren't pretty on canvas, then they certainly won't be pretty when she puts them on her wall.

Shoving that final thought out of her head, she turns back around to face the Akatsuki guy. Based on the intent way he eyes her, he is patiently awaiting a response. Knowing partially why she paints what she does, though not fully, Kaminari responds the best way she knows how.

"To be honest, I've never really thought about that before. Since I'm thinking about it now, though, I guess I think that art is contrast. Winter and summer, black and white, hot and cold, happiness and sadness, the world has all these things. They might be opposites, but that doesn't mean that they need to stay separated. If anything, I think we should embrace differences. Having things that contrast together in one place creates balance. Rainbows don't exist without rain, after all, and sure Chouwa is surrounded by forest trees, but that doesn't mean that tropical trees don't exist. So why not paint everything together instead of separate?"

The Akatsuki's gaze doesn't once leave Kaminari. His eyes stay trained on her face. Kaminari doesn't realize it, but her emerald eyes are sparkling and her features are animated. Never did she realize how enjoyable it would be to share the artistic viewpoint behind her works. When the flaxen-haired boy gives her a smile, the girl's enthusiasm only grows. The smile he gives her isn't halfhearted. It is one that lights up his face.

"I see. So the contrasting themes you use in your paintings aren't something you do at random un. The way you explain it, your art seems very intentional." Pausing to give another glance at one of the walls, he adds, "You're right when you say that your art is different from mine, un. Even so, I have to admit that you have an intriguing style. The broad variety of colors you use only adds to it."

Meeting his cobalt gaze, Kaminari returns his smile with fervor. "Thank you, Akatsuki guy! I'm glad you like my paintings! Nobody has ever seen them before, let alone another artist, so knowing that somebody likes my art is fantastic!" Turning so that she is facing the same wall as the Akatsuki, she adds, "And I'm happy that you noticed the colors. I always try using a bunch of them! If you ask me, colors are just as important when it comes to my pieces as the scenes themselves."

Smile staying intact, the boy glances at her. "Really? That's interesting, un. Explain."

Nodding, the girl enlightens him chipperly. "I guess you could say colors are important because there are so many of them. Kind of like the scenes themselves, they can be used to contrast. There can be a dark, gloomy, color next to a bright, happy, one, and that can tell you something all on its own."

Arching her brow, Kaminari observes the wall in front of her. The wall she is looking at just so happens to be the abstract work of shapes and patterns. The leftmost side of the painting consists only of warm colors, the right side of cool colors, and the center consists only of black and white. Eyes trained on the piece, the girl continues.

"The thing about colors is that everyone sees them differently. Take the painting we're looking at now for example. I used every color of the rainbow to make this, but knowing the people who live in Chouwa, they would only see the black and white part in the middle. People outside of Chouwa, who knows what they would see? They might only see the orange and the red, or maybe the blue and the green. Then there's me, who tries seeing every single color in this painting."

Much like Kaminari, the Akatsuki guy keeps his gaze focused on the wall. Even now that she is through with her explanation, he continues studying it. It's as if he is taking it apart piece by piece, trying to decipher it in a new light now that he has learned some additional information about the creator.

When he responds to Kaminari a moment later, the girl finds herself staring in a mixture of surprise and puzzlement. It sounds like he's talking about art, yet it feels like he is talking about something entirely different.

"You said that you  _try_  seeing every color. How many colors do you  _actually_  see, un? No matter how much you open your mind, you can never see every color. Each color has dozens of tints, shades, and variations; possibly hundreds. By expanding your mind in attempt to see every color, there are a lot of variations that you could be missing, un."

Kaminari gapes at him for a long moment, mulling over his words. The boy's intent, blue, eyes stare right back at her, his flaxen brow furrowed thoughtfully. When she replies several seconds later, her response comes easily. She wears a smile the entire time.

"What you're saying is true, but to be fair, I would miss a lot more colors if I  _didn't_  open my mind. I don't want to spend my whole life staring at black and white, even if it means that I might miss a few variations from looking at too many colors at once." Facial expression gaining an edge of intensity, Kaminari steps closer to the Akatsuki. "Besides, if I miss a few variants of a color that I didn't look at close enough, I can always look at that color again if I need to. I don't really care how many times I need to look at a color to see every part of it. As long as I'm not stuck looking at black and white and becoming paranoid of the other colors, there is always time to take a second look."

Kaminari watches as the Akatsuki guy furrows his brow farther. He appears a tad skeptical, but simultaneously, comprehension is seen flickering across his features. When he speaks, his tone of voice doesn't necessarily convey the level of understanding seen on his face. Although, Kaminari can at least say that he agrees with what she is saying on some level.

"I'll be honest. In my own opinion, life is too short to worry about seeing the world in a harmonious light, un." Hesitating momentarily, he adds, "Yet, I can't say that I blame you for your views. Chouwa is  _very_  confined, un. I can tell just by glancing at the people around here that everybody sticks to the village standard, and that anyone who goes against it is cast out. It doesn't take a genius to figure out that  _you're_  one of the ostracized ones, which in your case, isn't a bad thing. Sure, you're crazy, but you're an artistic type of crazy and you have vision, un. The other people in this village are as crazy as you are, but they don't have any open-mindedness. They're paranoid, un. Even if you're crazy, you're not crazy like them."

Moving another step closer, Kaminari grins. "Really? You actually mean that? Thank you, Akatsuki guy! That's the nicest thing anyone has ever said to me!"

Upon hearing her exclamation, the Akatsuki frowns cynically. "You're crazy? Is that really the nicest thing that anyone has ever said to you, un?"

Shrugging, Kaminari's bubbly smile remains intact. "It is to me! Daddy says that I'm independent, and Fuji said that I was a hard worker before she fired me, but I really don't consider that them being nice to me. Those were just half-hearted compliments. I know I'm crazy and you know I'm crazy, so you openly admitting it is great! You also said that I'm good crazy, which makes it even better!"

The Akatsuki boy shakes his head. "I've never met anyone so accepting of the fact that they're crazy, un. You really are something else."

Opening her mouth partway, Kaminari is prepared to respond. Before she does, however, something occurs to her. She isn't the only artist in the room. The Akatsuki guy is an artist, too. Sadly, she didn't learn a thing about his art during their conversation. He told her that art is his reason for waking up, breathing, and living, and she doesn't know a thing about it! Not knowing anything about his art after learning that he lives for it is simply pitiful! It is for this reason that Kaminari redirects the conversation in a very blunt manner.

Moving so that she is only a few centimeters away from him, Kaminari grabs hold of his shoulders and shakes him lightly. "Enough about me, Akatsuki guy. You could write a novel about how crazy I am by now! What about you? You said that art is your life! Show me some of the things you make with your clay, and tell me why you make them!" Pouting in a pleading fashion, she adds, "And don't try getting out of it! I poured my heart out about my art, so now it's your turn!"

It is only after she stops shaking him that she catches the smile on the Akatsuki's face. This smile is different from the previous ones. He doesn't appear pleased or mildly satisfied. Much to Kaminari's surprise, the Akatsuki guy appears excited! Not to mention a tad smug, but excited nonetheless.

His verbal response astounds Kaminari farther.

"Get out of showing you my art? I would never dream of doing that! The art I create is a fleeting experience of the most sublime sort! I never hold back from displaying my art, un! Especially not from someone who  _wants_  to see it!"

Kaminari has no idea how it happens. Before she can ask for more details on his artistic style, or even do so much as blink, the Akatsuki guy is grabbing hold of her wrist and dragging her into the corridor. He should be walking more slowly and with far less enthusiasm due to his broken ribs, but somehow the boy moves with gusto. It's as if the very mention of showcasing his art has filled him with life. Quite honestly, Kaminari doesn't mind this in the slightest. Seeing the Akatsuki guy, who is normally on the moody side, practically bouncing with joy makes Kaminari joyful as well. Who knew that art could cause the boy to flip emotions so drastically?

Her grin widening, Kaminari speaks. They make their way to his room to grab his clay pouches and dash back out into the corridor. She doesn't conceal her happiness in the slightest.

"Akatsuki guy, where are we going? I'm super excited that you're showing me your art, but why can't you show me in your room?"

He explains as they leave the hallway behind and dart down the stairs. The boy's eager smile has morphed into a grin that nearly matches Kaminari's.

"Well, I could show you in my room, but I'm certain that you would hate me for it, un. Not only that, but it wouldn't do my art justice. My art isn't something that can be confined by walls. To showcase my art in its purest form, I need open space, un."

She eyes him curiously for a moment, but shortly afterward shrugs in acceptance. "Okay, Akatsuki guy. I'll take your word for it. Just don't overdo it, okay? Your ribs are still broken!"

"A few broken bones can't separate me from my art! You'll learn that soon enough, un."

They reach the end of the stairs and sprint toward her large home's back exit. Kaminari's curiosity about his art has practically tripled by now! However, prior to exiting out the door, the Akatsuki guy speaks once again. What he says causes her heart to falter in the best way possible.

"By the way, you can stop with the whole  _'Akatsuki guy'_  thing, un. My name's Deidara."

Emerald orbs widening to the size of saucers, Kaminari stops dead in her tracks. Stammering slightly, she gawks in disbelief.

"Hold on. W-what did you say?!"

Smugness leaking into his smile, he pauses in his steps and turns to face her. "My name. It's Deidara. I won't hold out on you anymore, un. You've earned it."

* * *

Deidara never thought that he would hear himself say this, but Kaminari isn't so bad. He hasn't shared this with her, and he probably never will, but she is the first person who has ever had any desire to see his art. Everyone he has mentioned his art to in the past, from his childhood friends in Iwagakure to fellow Akatsuki members, have never shown his art the slightest interest. Whenever he asks someone if they want to see a new type of explosion he is working on, Deidara always gets one of two responses. They either make an excuse to leave, or bluntly confess how little they care. In all Deidara's life, he has never earned such a fervent reaction. Although he is a tad put off by her calliopean voice, as well as stunned at her excitement, he is unable to refrain from smiling.

"You make sculptures with the clay and combine it with your chakra to make it explode? That's the most amazing thing  _ever_! Out of all the art books I've read and the traveling artists I talked to when I worked at the candy shop, I've never heard of anything like it! Explosions being part of someone's art style! I can't get over how amazing that is!" Her already broad smile widening, she adds, "The sculptures you make are already creative, but adding in the explosions makes it even better! You know how to create two kinds of art using the same material!"

They loiter in a spacious, grassy, field at a far-out spot behind Kaminari's home. Her house appears small when they glance backward, and from where they're standing, the dirt path leading inside Chouwa is invisible. The only thing in their sightline is the river running alongside them as well as the edge of the forest, which from this distance, appears lightyears away. If Kaminari and Deidara wanted to, they could pretend that they are the only two people in existence and have it seem entirely real.

As Deidara feeds a sizable amount of clay to the mouths on each hand to create several birds, he replies to Kaminari's exclamations with confidence. The boy couldn't be happier for the girl's open-mindedness and optimism; not to mention her own key trait of artistic vision. If she didn't have these things, he highly doubts that he would be able to talk to her about his art with such freedom.

"I wouldn't necessarily call my clay  _'art'_ , un. My detonating clay is the vessel that I use to create my art. True art…" Pausing in his speech, Deidara sends the quartet of birds he'd crafted into the air. A second later he detonates them, finishing his sentence in the process. "….is an  _ **explosion**_!"

Deidara and Kaminari watch as vivid shades of orange and yellow sets the sky above them aflame. The deafening  _boom_  that comes with it causes Kaminari to flinch back a bit, but nevertheless, she watches with excitement. Deidara stares at his creation with a beaming grin, exhilaration seen in every one of his features. What Kaminari says only causes the bomber's joy to grow.

"I still can't believe how amazing your explosions are! I see why you call them art. The colors are so bright! Even if the explosions don't last long, they're incredible to look at!"

Deidara creates a trio of birds upon hearing her words, detonating these along with the previous. As an additional array of golden yellows and neon oranges ignites, he forms a response.

"Exactly. That is the entire point of my art, un. It's so fleeting! Art is something that blossoms one instant and withers away the next! Art is beauty that lasts for a single moment! To me, an explosion is the full essence of art!"

He glances at Kaminari, watching as her grass green eyes glimmer thoughtfully. The fact that she is mulling over his words couldn't be more apparent, the girl inspecting the current set of explosions with a brand of intensity that she lacked earlier. The fiery glow sparks to life with power prior to dying several seconds afterward. Kaminari arches a brow while viewing this, as if attempting to decipher a riddle.

When the girl finally replies to Deidara, she does so with a glittering smile. "Now that I think about it, I understand your view. Fleeting things really are beautiful! But isn't everything fleeting? It isn't just your explosions. Flowers, the grass, the trees, that river, my house, you and I, everything dies at some point. The idea of trying to make things last forever is just silly!" Smile widening to her familiar grin, she adds, "That's what makes fleeting things beautiful to you, though. Right? The fact that they're gone so quickly. Revel in everything that's beautiful today, because eventually it won't be here."

A long moment passes where Deidara doesn't speak. Neither does he create more bombs. He uses this time to stare at Kaminari, slanted cobalt eyes absorbing her features. He doesn't know how she managed to do it, but Kaminari hit the nail on the head. This isn't the first time she has done this, either. Thinking back on it, the girl is usually very spot on with everything she says. Such observation. Such intelligence. Such vision. The more Deidara is around her, the more he realizes that Kaminari isn't so bad. As of today, he might even like her.

Their gazes stay locked for what seems like ages, azure eyes meeting emerald in curiosity. Kaminari's eyes are wide, framed by dark lashes, and have a unique sort of sparkle to them. Deidara has no idea why he has never paid this any attention, but Kaminari's glimmering orbs are marvelously beautiful. A work of art in and of themselves…

Then, as quickly as the silence falls, it is lifted. The person who ends the moment between them is Kaminari. Naturally, she does so with an abrupt and odd question.

"Hey, Deidara, is it okay if I look at your hands? I've been wanting to look at them ever since we came out here! I don't know how I missed it that they have mouths on them, but now I just  _have_  to see them up close!" Grinning sheepishly, she adds, "If you don't mind, that is. I would understand if you didn't want me messing with them. They are a part of your clay-detonating jutsu, after all."

Raising a flaxen brow, Deidara opens the mouths on each of his palms and stares down at them in bafflement. He has gotten many inquiries about the mouths on his hands over the years. Some are about how he got them, others are about if they hurt, and others still about if he is unsettled by them. Yet, out of all these questions, none of them have ever been about looking at them more closely. With the grotesque way his tongues slither across his palms and how vicious the teeth look, he can understand why this is.

Brow arching farther, he asks puzzledly, "You actually want to get closer to these things? You can't be serious, un. Nobody has  _ever_  wanted to get closer to them."

Shrugging nonchalantly, Kaminari's smile stays marvelously intact. "If that's the case, then the other people you showed them to were being silly. You use your extra mouths to create the most unique art I've ever seen! The mouths on your hands are your artistic tools. Of course I want to see them!" Giggling, she confesses, "Not to mention that I want to find out why I never noticed them before. I walked with you from the middle of the village all the way to the edge of the woods the first time we met. Then I carried you back to my house, healed you, and have been around you for two straight days. I'm surprised that I never noticed your hands during all that."

Deidara's bewilderment remains, yet he provides an answer to Kaminari's question. After all, it's an easy enough answer to give.

"You want to know why you never noticed the mouths on my hands, un? The reason is simple. You're not supposed to see them." Raising his palms so that they're in Kaminari's sightline, he closes his extra set of mouths while explaining farther. "My mouths don't have lips, un. Because of that, they blend in with my skin when I close them. There are lines, yes, but they look like my hands' natural creases. By keeping them closed when I'm not using them, they're completely unnoticeable. So of course you never saw them, un."

Cocking her head to the side, Kaminari examines his palms intently. It takes less than two seconds for her to respond.

"Oh. You keep them closed so people don't see them. That makes sense!" Hesitating, she asks, "Is it still okay if I see one of your hands, though? Hidden or not, I know that the mouths are there now, so you may as well let me look."

Opening the mouths on his hands once more, Deidara glances at them prior to looking at Kaminari. He is still in disbelief that someone actually  _wants_  to look at the mouths on his hands! After mulling it over, however, the flaxen-haired bomber shrugs in indifference. Stepping closer to Kaminari, he extends an open-mouthed hand in her direction.

"Sure. Look if you want, but it's at your own discretion. If you get freaked out, don't complain to me about it, un."

Kaminari bounces with joy. "Yay! Thank you so much, Deidara! You're the best!"

Without so much as a hint of hesitation, the girl takes his extended hand in both of her small, calloused, ones. She brings it close to her face, observing it intently. Quite honestly, the experience is an odd one for Deidara. Not only does Kaminari observe the mouth on his hand, but she runs an index finger along the edges of it and lightly pokes at several of the teeth. Aside from carefully avoiding contact with his tongue, the girl shows no boundaries while studying his hand-mouth. Another human has never gotten anywhere near them before, but now that one is, it feels strange to say the least...

Peeking at Kaminari's face every now and again, he sees that her eyes glow with fascination. Deidara might feel odd about this, though it couldn't be plainer that Kaminari is enjoying the experience. The only exception would be when his tongue gets a smidgen too close to her. In these cases, the girl grimaces and flinches away in a very avid manner. This leads Deidara to believe that, despite her visible fascination, she isn't quite as engrossed by his hand mouth as she lets on.

This should offend the bomber, but in truth, he finds himself smirking. At one point when Kaminari begins poking at his teeth yet again, Deidara can't resist sticking his tongue out and wrapping it around part of her hand in a surprise attack. The girl releases his hand and leaps back by nearly a meter, unleashing a startled shriek. Deidara bursts into fits of amused laughter at her reaction.

"What's wrong, Kaminari? Are my hand mouths not so amazing, un?" he asks teasingly.

A scarlet blush dusting her cheeks, Kaminari works to defend herself. "Hey, that isn't fair! When you told me to not get freaked out, you didn't say you'd freak me out on purpose!" Pouting, she adds, "That wasn't very nice."

Smirking, he confesses, "No, it wasn't nice, but it was funny. You should've seen the look on your face, un! I had no idea that my tongue would scare you so badly!"

The red tint of her cheeks increasing, the girl mutters, "You didn't know for sure, but you were probably hoping to hear me scream either way." Her displeased pout morphing into a smile, she adds, "I'm okay with it, though. Getting freaked out is worth it if it means hearing you laugh. You have a nice laugh! Nothing at all like a criminal. You sound like a teenage boy."

Deidara gawks at Kaminari upon hearing her remark. What she says forces Deidara to come face-to-face with a stunning realization. It has been  _ages_  since he last laughed. True, he has laughed at opponents who were foolish enough to walk into his traps, and since joining the Akatsuki, he laughed at Tobi once when Zetsu tried eating him. But when was the last time he laughed at something small? Licking a girl using his hand mouth and freaking her out? It has been years since something so harmless has earned more than a chuckle from the boy.

As strange as it is, laughing at something harmless actually feels… _nice_.

It is only after processing these thoughts that Deidara returns her smile, appearing as smug as ever. "You can cover for yourself all you want, but it doesn't hide the truth. You were scared, un." Smirk widening, he continues. "You'd better watch your step, Kaminari, otherwise I might use them to come after you. Now that I know your fear, that is, un."

Kaminari gains her own smirk at his threat. To Deidara's surprise, it almost appears playful.

"Come after me all you want, Deidara, but scaring me won't be that easy a second time."

With that said, the girl turns away from him and saunters in the direction of her distant home. After walking two steps, she turns back around and faces Deidara with a beaming smile.

"Do you want to go back to my house to get something to eat? It's way past dinner time, but that doesn't matter. There's plenty of leftover soup from last night, and I baked a batch of muffins earlier this week, so there's no need for me to cook."

For the first time since meeting her, Deidara doesn't protest. He nods and follows her compliantly. His response is simple, though the tinge of happiness heard in his tone isn't missed.

"Sure. It's getting late, and I am pretty hungry, un."

* * *

_Later That Night_

Deidara's ribs were beginning to feel sore again, but after a healing session from Kaminari, the pain decreased significantly. It diminished to the point where Deidara could sleep for half the night without waking up in agony. Tonight, whether he is in his guestroom in Kaminari's house, in the middle of the forest, or at the Akatsuki hideout, he was hoping to sleep for nine solid hours. Sadly, this doesn't happen. He doesn't awaken due to soreness, but is instead roused by a different type of agony. Deidara is thirsty.

Ignoring the sensation, Deidara flips onto his side, pulls the blankets up to his chin, and attempts resuming slumber. Of course, after ten minutes, the golden-haired boy discovers that it is no use. His throat is drier than Sunagakure. Without taking a few sips of water, he won't be able to sleep anytime soon. It is for this reason that, despite it being the middle of the night, the boy kicks away the covers and stands to his feet. Deidara doesn't see darkness like would normally be expected at this hour. The moon is full and the drapes are pulled back from the window, bathing the room in soft, silver, florescence. Deidara saunters out of the room and into the corridor with the moon lighting his path, his destination of the kitchen the only thing on his mind.

The floorboards creak beneath the boy's weight. Some echo while others squeak softly. Upon reaching the stairs, the creaking of wood against wood is far louder than that of the floor. For a moment Deidara expects Kaminari to dash out of her bedroom, demanding to know why he is up and about instead of sleeping. Apparently the girl is heavily unconscious, though, because she isn't heard once. The bomber is neither happy nor unhappy at this occurrence. He merely shrugs and continues his journey, ribs mildly protesting.

Once in the kitchen, retrieving a glass takes only a moment. Deidara guesses at random that they must be in the cupboard above the sink, and fortunately, his intuition is correct. Silver light reflects off the metal of the faucet as he fills the glass to the brim, the moon illuminating the stream of water as well. Under normal circumstances, the full moon is unfavorable to an Akatsuki. Darkness is depended upon for stealth missions. When the moon gleams brightly as it does tonight, the cover of inky blackness is severely disabled. On this night, however, Deidara is intrigued by the iridescent shine. He peers out a nearby window to catch sight of tall grasses swaying in the breeze, a shimmering orb encompassed by a starless night sky spread above the landscape. It casts a type of lighting that seems almost mystic.

Deidara takes a lengthy sip as he leans against Kaminari's rough, wooden, countertop. He gazes out the window the entire time, not a sound heard besides the occasional chirping of a cricket. The flaxen-haired Akatsuki isn't certain on why, but the chirping cricket and gentle breeze calls to him. Swallowing the remainder of his water, he sets the glass in the sink prior to sauntering toward the door. The walk is not long. A mere ten paces are what it takes to reach the back porch. As soon as he stands outside, Deidara inhales the refreshing, nighttime air. Until exiting the enclosure, it never occurred to him how stifling Kaminari's house feels.

From this new angle of the porch, Deidara can see Kaminari's empty clothesline as well as the endless dirt path that leads to the forest. Soft whistling is heard from the wind, along with loud creaking from the porch railing. Now that he is outdoors, the moon's sliver light no longer creates a mystic sensation. The darkened, green, landscape goes on for what could be eternity, as does the earthen trail. Not a soul is seen in the midst of this secluded countryside. As a result, a sudden pang of loneliness strikes Deidara.

He allows the sensation to wash over him like an unpleasant, icy, wave. Spending each day here, working, playing, and talking to oneself while living in isolation, Deidara could never imagine it. Even as a twelve-year-old rogue shinobi, he'd always managed to find  _someone_  to talk to…

He leans against the creaking railing, contemplating this abrupt sentiment. It is only after processing such an emotion that the boy considers it. Loneliness? Has Deidara ever experienced it? Now that he considers it, he doesn't think that he has ever felt the pain of dense, unending, loneliness. What would being completely and utterly alone every single day do to a person? Hypothetically speaking, if Kaminari lived here alone without her father, how would this affect her?

Cobalt eyes widening, a realization strikes.

Has Deidara ever actually seen Kaminari's father? Now that he thinks about it, the man has never made an appearance…

Frowning, Deidara ponders this aloud. "Hm. That  _is_  an interesting thought, un."

Unfortunately for Deidara, he won't have time to unravel this mystery. How he didn't spot it, he doesn't know. Perhaps it is because he was lost in thought, or maybe it is because he isn't wearing his scope. Either way, such petty reasoning doesn't matter much anymore. Coming down the earthen trail, close enough to the house that his persona can be made out clearly in the moonlight, is a familiar figure. A distant splotch of red hair is seen, as is a tattered, black, cloak bearing red clouds. Deidara stares for a moment, rubbing his eyes prior to returning his gaze to the figure. Certainly enough, the red hair and ragged cloak remain. More than anything, Deidara feels astounded. Of course, once this subsides, he can't help feeling a tad smug.

"Well, what do you know? It looks like my man, Sasori, came looking for me. This is certainly a surprise, un."

Deidara descends the stairs of the porch without a second thought. His ribs complain as he wades through the grasses, but due to the bewildering presence of his partner, he couldn't care less. Sasori senses as someone approaches, his shoulders tensing and the puppeteer clutching several obscured shuriken. When the wooden man spots a head of blonde, lengthy, tresses, as well as his teammate's familiar gait, however, he tucks the unseen weapons back into their place. After spotting Deidara, Sasori averts from the path and makes his way forward. The puppeteer's stature is slow and stiff, his facial expression monotone. Deidara, on the other hand, walks at a faster pace, though he stoops slightly. Also unlike Sasori, the boy sports a smirk.

Once they are close enough so that the other can hear without shouting, Deidara speaks. His remark causes a miniscule scowl to flicker across Sasori's features.

"I thought that you didn't care what happens to me, un. It looks like I was wrong about that. It seems you care after all, considering how you came looking."

Though he scowls, Sasori's tone is bland. "I don't care about you, brat. I would much rather be at one of our hideouts repairing Hiruko. The only reason I decided to look for you was to avoid repercussions from Leader Pein. If I allowed you to run off and die somewhere less than two months after joining the Akatsuki, I am certain that Leader would give me far more than a stern talking to."

Despite the dull ache of his ribs, Deidara's smirk widens. "You're scared of Leader Pein? This is certainly new, un. I had no idea that Leader frightened you so badly."

The puppeteer grunts with aggravation. "Leader Pein doesn't scare me. Having him punish me would be a waste of time. Not to mention waiting around for a new partner." He pauses prior to making a command. "Now that I've found you, let's go. We're leaving. We can set up camp somewhere in the forest. All I want is to get away from this backwater village."

Smirk vanishing, Deidara nods compliantly. "Alright. I just have to retrieve my cloak and my detonating clay from my bedroom, and we're out of here. It should only take five minutes, un."

Though the expression is miniscule, Sasori raises a cynical brow. " _'Your bedroom'_? What do you mean by that? Have you taken up residence here?"

The flaxen-haired Akatsuki is caught off guard by the question. Even so, he answers with nonchalance.

"When I call the bedroom mine, I don't mean it so literally, un. The only reason I call it that is because I've spent the past couple of days there. The girl who lives in that house healed some of my injuries. I tried leaving earlier, but unfortunately, my ribs didn't allow me to, un." He continues with reluctance. "I'm plenty well enough to travel now, though. As long as I'm given some time to rest, un."

Sasori narrows gray-brown eyes. "You'd better be ready to travel, because I'm not waiting around. Go to your room, collect your things, and be back here in ten minutes. Otherwise I'm leaving without you."

Deidara doesn't respond verbally. The boy merely gives an additional nod. He turns back toward the house, walking with all possible swiftness. As he'd told his partner previously, five minutes is all it takes to gather his belongings. The young Akatsuki is in and out of the house, moving quickly and quietly despite his injuries. Not once did Kaminari awaken. The duo of criminals is sauntering up the dirt path toward the trees long before Sasori's deadline.

Though he'd enjoyed his time with Kaminari, the bomber doesn't think of her once. All he can think about is how happy it makes him to leave the isolated house and the paranoid villagers behind.

* * *

_The Next Morning_

Empty. That is the only way Kaminari can describe her home. Just last night it was filled with conversation, and laughter, and shared meals. Now, this morning, it is empty. Kaminari looked inside Deidara's room, expecting to see him either asleep or lying awake in boredom. Much to her disappointment, neither of these was the case. The room was completely void of the Akatsuki. Aside from Deidara, his cloak and detonating clay was also missing. This was all it took for Kaminari to realize it. With as much as they connected over each other's art, it wasn't enough. Just as Deidara told her the day prior, he is not her friend. He is an S-rank criminal.

As Kaminari dashes around the kitchen, grabbing ingredients such as eggs and flour for bread, this is the single thing that consumes her mind.  _Deidara_. He is a criminal. He is not her friend. He proved both these things to be true when she woke up this morning. Yet, the thought of Deidara still makes her smile. Why? Because even if these things are true, they still experienced genuine moments where they enjoyed each other's companionship. Admittedly, the time they spent exploring each other's art made yesterday the happiest day that Kaminari has had in ages.

Maybe he isn't her friend. Maybe he is a criminal. Yet, in spite of these two overwhelming facts, they smiled and laughed. They had an enjoyable conversation over her haphazard dinner of leftover soup and muffins. He even told her his  _name_. Although Deidara left sometime last night, the two of them made some considerable progress.

As Kaminari combines the necessary ingredients and begins kneading dough, she grins widely. It won't be today. It won't be tomorrow. There is a decent chance that it won't be next month, either. Even so, the girl remains convinced of this one thing.

Deidara is going to come back.


	6. Chapter Six

_Disclaimer: I do not own Naruto._

* * *

**Chapter Six**

_Six Weeks Later_

The narrow, earthen, trail is shrouded by the sky's shadows. For the past two days the weather has been gloomy, not a hint of sunlight breaking through bleak, cloudy, coverage. When combining cloudiness with a copious forest canopy, night might as well be falling.

A familiar duo presses through the path's sprouting foliage, this route being commonplace for them by now. Three unyielding weeks of reconnaissance, followed by the strategic destruction of fifteen trading posts on the Land of Earth's border, preceded this journey. There were a multitude of Jonin from Iwagakure that refused to let the trading posts go without a fight. Considering how many of them were previous comrades familiar with Deidara as well as his fighting style, it isn't surprising that a certain blonde terrorist ran out of resources. The two Akatsuki succeeded in their mission, though Sasori had to handle the final post entirely on his own.

It is for this reason that, although this route is out of their way, they are travelling past Chouwa. Leader Pein could easily give them a new mission the moment they return. If this happens, then Deidara wants nothing more than to be prepared.

A sudden breeze floats past as they make their way down the darkening trail. Wheat-colored strands tousle as a result, brushing against Deidara's face and neck. The boy doesn't wear his straw hat at this particular moment, though Sasori does. Another gust of wind passes, sending lush, blonde, hair into a greater state of disarray. Deidara doesn't let this bother him, of course. He continues walking at an even pace, noting the smell of moisture in the air as he saunters onward.

For the first time in many hours, the puppeteer makes a comment. It is a simple remark, though Deidara takes it to heart.

"It's going to rain soon," says Hiruko's gravelly voice. "Within the next hour or so, probably."

The bomber raises a brow while turning his gaze to Sasori's outer shell.

"How can you be so sure? The sky has looked like this for days now, un."

"The wind is picking up and the air is starting to feel heavier. It is going to rain."

Shrugging, Deidara points his cobalt slants back toward the path. The fork that they have both been waiting for has finally appeared, the left trail leading in the direction of the Akatsuki's primary hideout and the right trail leading to Chouwa.

Meanwhile, the boy grants his partner a response. "I believe you, Sasori my man, un. While I'm buying more detonating clay, maybe I'll consider purchasing an umbrella."

The latter portion of his response was stated sarcastically, the bomber smirking. As Sasori speaks again, aggravation is heard in Hiruko's voice.

"You will need more than an umbrella, Deidara. This storm is going to be big. When it comes, my puppet body will be safe inside of Hiruko. You, on the other hand, should find shelter."

The duo of Akatsuki are on the crest of the fork by now. Sasori moves to the left and Deidara veers toward the right. Before leaving each other completely, the bomber says one final thing. His tone retains its sarcastic edge. Yet, consideration is also present.

"Alright. Maybe I will weather out the storm somewhere, un. Spending the night in Chouwa sounds far better than stuffing myself inside Hiruko with you." Pausing momentarily, he adds, "Besides. I'm sure that there is someone more than willing to take me in, un."

* * *

Kaminari is glad that today is candle day instead of laundry day. She had been scurrying all over town, delivering bread and baked goods to the elderly. Since waking up this morning the sky has been a turbulent shade of charcoal; a color two shades darker than yesterday. Even so, Kaminari had been in doubt that it would storm. There wasn't any rain the day prior, after all. It was only after coming home that the girl discovered the error of her hypothesis. Less than ten minutes after returning to the safety of her house, rain started pouring.

Thunder rumbles, and rain pounds relentlessly against wood. The girl can't refrain from gazing out the window as she moves from candle mold to candle mold inserting wicks. Water streams down the outside of the glass in buckets, causing any potential visual of the outside world to become obscured. Every now and again the window lights up blue due to lightning, the thunder sounding particularly volatile during these times. As much as Kaminari tries, she can't stop from feeling a tad afraid and very alone. She never has enjoyed thunderstorms.

Biting down harshly on her lower lip, Kaminari inserts the final wick and rushes toward the stovetop. A cast iron pot simmers, the wax within completely melted. She picks up a wooden spoon and gives the substance a final stir prior to filling the candle molds. The girl fills them with precision, careful to keep the wicks at the perfect angle so that the candles will burn correctly once the wax hardens. Of course, even while focused on her task, she shudders every time it thunders. More than anything, Kaminari wishes that she were on better terms with Fuji. What she wouldn't give to rush to the woman's house so that she can weather through the storm with friends.

Momentarily forgetting the storm, Kaminari's grass-colored orbs fill with tears. She misses Fuji and her childhood playmates more than anyone could guess. It has been one month and two weeks since Deidara was last seen with her, yet she is still being shunned. Many of the villagers acted as if they felt sorry for her at first, believing Kaminari to be naïve. However, this isn't the case anymore. Sympathy has shifted completely to judgement. Condescending whispers. Livid shouting. Curses and lewd hand gestures. Raw eggs, stones, and rotten vegetables. Kaminari has suffered through all of this. The worst part is that, without Deidara, Kaminari has suffered through it alone.

The first few days after the flaxen-haired Akatsuki left, Kaminari felt certain that he would return to her. Like everything else, however, certainty fades with time. Days turned to weeks, and weeks to more than a month, and she hasn't seen the slightest sign of Deidara. Part of Kaminari still believes that he will return, though there is another portion that is filled with doubt. What if Deidara died in the middle of the woods after he left? What if he was killed on one of his dangerous Akatsuki missions? What if he is still alive, but doesn't care? He is an S-rank criminal, after all, and Kaminari is an innocent girl from backwoods Chouwa. Why would he want to return to someone like her?

With these thoughts in mind, Kaminari's tears start to come harder. The villagers hate her, Deidara is either dead somewhere or he left her, and she is all alone. Was Fuji right about everything? Maybe Kaminari made the biggest mistake of her life…

The thunder has become earsplitting and the lightning more capricious, but Kaminari hardly pays this attention. She is trapped deeply within her inner musings. Salty droplets stream down her cheeks, the girl doing everything she can to focus on filling candle molds. Due to intent concentration on her task, as well as a web of precarious thoughts, the sound of her back door creaking open is never heard. Neither are the heavy, male, footsteps that enter inside from the house's back porch.

Rain splatters the circumference of the entranceway, leaving a dark circle as a stark contrast against pale floorboards. A frosty chill gusts through the room, causing Kaminari to shudder as she fills another mold. Even so, the girl doesn't notice that the breeze comes through an open door. The only time she sees it is when she turns away from the stovetop to face the kitchen table, preparing to grab additional candle molds. Upon turning around, melancholy thoughts are replaced abruptly by terror.

Lighting strikes, bathing the entire room in a frightening shade of electric blue. The window lights up along with the doorway, leaving nothing but the darkened persona of a stranger visible. Flurries of wind strengthen to the point of howling, causing lengthy hair and a blackened cloak to billow fearsomely. Kaminari shrieks at the sight of the figure, nearly leaping through the ceiling as she backs against the counter. The figure shuts the splintering door behind him, revealing his face to be familiar. Kaminari, however doesn't notice. In her moment of panic, she grabs the first thing she can get her hands on. Knowing that the wooden spoon she had been using to stir melted wax won't act as a proper weapon, the girl reaches for an iron skillet.

She shields herself protectively using the frying pan. Another horrific bout of lightning strikes, bathing the figure in uneven light as he crosses the expanse. Kaminari is stricken with fear at the intruder's growing nearness. She charges him with the skillet as a result, swinging long before her muscles process the action. The girl doesn't hesitate to shout.

"Ahh! Die, burglar! You will never step foot in Daddy's house again!"

The first thing the girl expects is for the frying pan to make bodily contact. Following this, she anticipates a cry of agony. Startlingly, neither of these things come to pass. A hand much larger than hers shoots out and snatches the makeshift weapon. The skillet is flung carelessly into the next room as a result, landing behind the living room sofa and out of Kaminari's reach. Before she is given an opportunity to react, she is grabbed by the wrist and forcibly shifted so that her back is facing the intruder. He bends her arm so that it is trapped behind her, the man using his free hand to grasp Kaminari's opposite shoulder. For a single, unending, instant her blood runs cold, horrified that this burglar might kill her. When the boy speaks, however, Kaminari is immediately calmed.

"What the heck are you doing?! Has the rest of this village's insanity rubbed off on you? Attack me like that again, and I'll blow your house higher than the sky, un!"

In this moment, the raven-haired girl should feel terrified. Considering how he forced his way into her home, effortlessly warded off her attack, and threatened to destroy her place of residence, fear would be more than proper a reaction. Upon hearing that familiar, grouchy, tone as well as his peculiar speech pattern, however, Kaminari can't help but grin.

It suddenly feels as if butterflies have built a nest in her stomach. Not as few as two butterflies, but two-dozen. The edge of a dark cloak is seen in her peripheral vision, the unmistakable pattern of red clouds staining the fabric. Kaminari also catches sight of the sopping, blonde, tresses that brush against her, the boy's wet hair attaching to her clothing. Deidara holds her firmly, the moisture from his garments soaking into hers. The raven-haired girl, however, doesn't care about her dry clothes becoming soiled. All Kaminari is capable of at this moment is smiling. Her heart thuds like a drum.

_"He came back. He came back! Oh my gosh, he came back!"_

Grass-colored eyes widening, Kaminari stares at the wall in front of her in disbelief. A second is all it takes for this emotion to morph into excitement.

"No way. Deidara? Is it really you? Are you actually here? I can't believe it! You left in the middle of the night, and I thought you went away forever!"

Upon hearing her enthusiasm, Deidara immediately releases her. Kaminari turns around, taking in the sight of the drenched Akatsuki member. Droplets of water stream down his face, and his flaxen locks are tinted brown by moisture. A puddle quickly forms on the floor surrounding him, precipitation dripping off the ends of Deidara's hair and cloak. The bomber's cobalt eyes are narrowed in aggravation, although the girl doesn't seem to care. She pounces on him in the form of a suffocating embrace, Deidara's eyes narrowing farther.

"Oh my gosh, it really is you! Only Deidara scowls at me the way you do! I am so happy that you came back! Especially today, since it's raining so hard. You're super wet, Deidara, like a kitten after swimming in a river. Do you want me to make some tea and get you a change of clothes? My daddy has some that might fit. You're only a few centimeters shorter than him, and you and Daddy are about the same build, so any clothes he owns should fit. Do you want kimono-style clothes, or a modern shirt and pants? Daddy has both!"

Deidara doesn't put up the slightest struggle against Kaminari's embrace. The bomber merely sighs in exasperation.

"Do you ever shut up? I just finished a three-week mission in the Land of Earth, and I've been wading through mud for the past two hours! The only reason I showed up here was to get out of the rain, un! Let me use your bathroom to take a bath, get me some tea and some clean clothes, and then you can babble to me all you want!"

Kaminari releases the blonde and backs away from him. This isn't because his shouting frightens her, but because she feels a pang of sympathy. A three-week mission and then a two-hour hike through the pouring rain? He must be exhausted! Not to mention how bad his injuries were the last time they were together. To Kaminari, it looks like the Akatsuki leader found a healer, patched Deidara up as quickly as possible, and sent him right back out on missions. Being a rouge ninja must not give a person a lot of time for recovery, let alone relaxation.

Smiling, the girl saunters behind Deidara and removes his cloak. The blonde seems puzzled by her actions, but he complies nevertheless. Once the garment is in her grasp, Kaminari places it over the back of a kitchen chair and gestures for him to remove his shinobi sandals. While doing this, she speaks.

"Usually I don't like it when you're grouchy, but I'll excuse it this time. You must really be tired! Go upstairs and run your bath water while I get you some of Daddy's clothes. I'll have tea and gyoza ready in forty-five minutes!"

Deidara bends over to remove his sandals prior to setting them beside the door. Once they're in their place, he raises his head to look at Kaminari. The girl expects a short-tempered remark more than anything. It is because of this that she is surprised when he replies to her earlier inquiry.

"I want kimono-style clothing. I don't like the modern style. Not for my clothes or my art, un."

Kaminari retains her smile, though it isn't one that is enthusiastic. Rather, it softens into something of a kind nature.

"Okay. Kimono-style it is." Pausing slightly, she asks, "How do you like your tea? And what ingredients do you like in your gyoza?"

* * *

A little over an hour has passed. Within that hour, the storm has grown to monumental heights. Rain pounds against the outside of the house like a heard of mustangs, thunder resounding like cannon-fire from the sky above. Bolts of blue flash across the landscape several times per minute. Combining this with the wind's merciless wailing, it could be said that Chouwa is suffering the storm of the century.

Deidara peers at the storm from the living room window, slowly sipping green tea from a porcelain cup. He couldn't feel more relieved to be sitting on the floor in front of Kaminari's fireplace. While it is true that Deidara could make the journey to the Akatsuki's primary hideout in this weather, he much prefers not to. By the time the boy made it through Kaminari's door, every crevice of his body was coated in a dense combination of mud and water. After spending endless weeks fighting Jonin-level shinobi in the Land of Earth, he can't imagine making the two-day trip to the main hideout in this storm. Two hours was struggle enough.

He takes another sip from the cup, pulling a thick quilt he'd snatched from Kaminari's sofa more snugly around him. Beneath the bland cotton coverlet are a fresh set of clothes. Adorning Deidara is a simple pair of blue pants, a loose-fitting gray undershirt, and a kimono-style jacket. The color of the jacket is royal blue, matching the pants seamlessly. There is a dark gray obi meant to hold it in place, but for comfort's sake, Deidara decided to leave it off. The boy also decided to set aside his hair tie, as well as his shinobi headband, damp golden locks hanging freely around his shoulders. With clean clothes, a warm blanket, and the roaring fireplace, Deidara is finally starting to feel dry.

Soft orange illuminates the room, the atmosphere cozy despite the foul weather. When Kaminari enters from the kitchen with an additional blanket slung over her shoulder, a bowl of gyoza held in each hand, the room's comfort grows. Kaminari sits down on the floor mere centimeters away, shoving one of the bowls in his direction with a warm smile. Deidara sets his tea on the floor beside him at the sight, freeing up his hands to take the bowl from her.

Once the boy has food in his grasp, he can't resist the urge to shove several of the pork-filled dumplings into his mouth. His chopsticks stay busy to say the least. Now that Deidara thinks about it, he hasn't eaten a nibble since early yesterday morning. Sasori lacks natural, human, needs due to his puppet body. Convincing him to stop for sleeping, eating, and bathroom breaks is difficult because of this. Deidara has gone forty-eight hours straight without eating at times. Not to mention surviving on five or six hours of sleep in place of eight. Though he respects Sasori as a fellow craftsman, it is irritating that he forgets the human necessities of others.

The flaxen-haired Akatsuki doesn't notice, but Kaminari stares at him as he eats. Deidara puts two gyoza in his mouth at once, hardly swallowing before shoving in three more. The green-eyed girl curls up beneath her blanket, pulling the tan coverlet over her face to conceal giggles. Despite her efforts, bursts of laughter slip out. He raises a brow at the sound.

"What's so funny, un?"

Deidara's mouth was full when making the inquiry, causing her giggles to come harder.

"Doesn't the Akatsuki ever feed you? You're eating like a starving grizzly bear."

The boy isn't sure why, but his face reddens at her remark. He picks up one dumpling with his chopsticks rather than the three that he had been planning on. Deidara chews slowly while replying.

"I am  _not_  eating like a bear, un." He swallows before continuing. "And, no. I don't get to eat as often as I want. I'm a ninja, un. I have missions. What do you think ninja do on missions? Sit around eating dango?"

Swallowing a bite of her own food, Kaminari giggles. "If you're going undercover at a dango shop, then yes. Otherwise, probably not." The girl takes a sip of tea prior to asking a more serious question. "I haven't seen you in a while. What happened? You kind of disappeared six weeks ago and never came back."

Deidara shrugs apathetically. "I didn't  _'disappear'_ , un. My partner, Sasori, came looking for me, and I left with him. We needed to get back to the Akatsuki base."

"What about your injuries?" asks Kaminari. "Are they better?"

The boy nods stiffly. "Yeah. I've been better for weeks, un. Sasori took me to a medic. My ribs were patched up in a matter of hours, and so was that scarred part of my intestine. All of that is old news now, un."

Kaminari grins widely. "That's great! I'm glad you're not hurt anymore! A ninja can't be a ninja if he's injured." Frowning slightly, she adds, "I bet you're tired, though. How many missions have you been on since we last saw each other? I know you said you just finished a three-week one."

Deidara nods once more. "There was that three-week mission, one week-long mission, and a couple of four-day missions. Four in total, un. The first three didn't require a lot of my art, so I didn't have to restock my supply for a while. If you want to know why you haven't seen me in so long, that's why. My man, Sasori, stole the show because my ribs were still sore, un." The boy scoffs bitterly. "That's just like him, un. Using my injury as an opportunity to take over the limelight with his creepy puppets."

Kaminari takes another sip of tea, her pale features morphing with surprise as she does so.

"Your partner's name is  _Sasori_? He wouldn't be that rogue shinobi from Sunagakure?  _'Sasori of the Red Sand'?_  I've heard some people call him the Puppet Master."

Deidara replies through a mouthful of gyoza. "The very same guy, un. He's not as amazing as the stories make him out to be." His lips quirk into a smirk. "My art is far better than Sasori's, un. He's convinced that true art is something that lasts forever, never changing and never fading. Until meeting him, I'd never heard a more ridiculous notion."

The girl furrows a thoughtful brow at the statement. Though she sports a lighthearted smile, her response is nonetheless serious.

"In that case, I guess there is no true art. It doesn't matter what it is. Even tall mountains and gigantic rivers change with time." She gazes directly into Deidara's cobalt slants. "I feel bad that your partner, Sasori, feels that way. Not being able to accept that things change and disappear must be hard. That's one of the reasons I like you, Deidara. You know that nothing lasts forever, but it doesn't make you sad. You live in that fleeting moment and enjoy it."

Slants widening to spheres, Deidara observes her. The boy's indifferent expression eventually morphs into a smile.

"The last I checked, your art style has to do with bringing contrasting elements together, un. My own art style is nothing like that. All I care about is creating art that embraces the transient beauty of a single moment." Pausing, he adds with a broadening smirk, "Even if our art differs, it still sounds like you agree with me, un."

Kaminari returns his smile.

"Of course I do! Everything's fleeting. There is really no argument against your artistic viewpoint, so how could I disagree?" She swallows a dumpling prior to continuing. "And personally, I like it that our art styles are different. Just because they're different doesn't mean that one is better. You create these big, beautiful, explosions, and I make paintings that embrace everything in the world that is opposite. Both of us create amazing art!"

Deidara doesn't refrain from grinning. Throughout the previous six weeks, he has thought about Kaminari every now and again. At some point, he decided that he likes her. True, the girl is optimistic, naïve, and far too kind. Yet, Deidara likes her. In this moment, the boy has discovered why this is. Kaminari understands.

Grass-colored eyes glow with enthusiasm, and porcelain skin shines against the light of the fire. Her cup reflects the orange glow as she brings it to her mouth, producing an added sparkle. There is no denying that the girl looks like something out of one of her portraits. A calm young woman peacefully drinking tea in front of a fireplace while a storm rages outside.

Upon finishing her tea, the girl speaks again. Kaminari's tone matches the gusto in her eyes.

"Speaking of art, yours really inspired me! There was a fourth wall in my bedroom that wasn't painted the last time you were here, but it's finished now. Do you want to see it?"

* * *

"That's actually pretty good, un. Not as good as the original, but good for  _your_  art."

Kaminari was surprised when she didn't have to drag Deidara upstairs. He followed willingly. The flaxen-haired bomber even struck her as eager, telling her that it isn't astonishing that his particular brand of artistic genius is inspiring. Kaminari couldn't refrain from giggling softly, finding the confident smile he shot her cute as much as amusing. As they stand in the center of her bedroom staring at the previously blank, white, wall, he wears this same grin.

Across from Kaminari's wall of abstract patterns is a wall coated by a layer of black. Bursts of bright orange and magnificent yellows splash the obsidian canvas. They vary in size and intensity, added touches of gold dusted against the edges of the explosions. Painted on the wall's left portion is a rocky cliff the color of chestnut, light from the numerous explosions igniting its surface. Her work contains a marvelous combination of dark and light colors, if Kaminari does say so herself. Even so, she admits that her explosions could use some work...

Tucking an ebony strand behind an ivory ear, the girl responds to Deidara's comment fervently.

"You really think it looks good? I'm glad! I worked really hard on getting the colors right! The mountain was the hardest. I had to work on getting a rocky texture, plus I had to make a bunch of different shades of brown. It's nighttime in the painting, but there's also light from the explosions, so I had to figure out where the light was hitting it to decide which shades to use." Sighing, she adds, "I'm disappointed with how the explosions turned out, though. They're  _good_ , but they're not great. My goal was to capture how spontaneous, beautiful, and short-lived your explosions are. Looking at it now, I didn't do that. They look mediocre compared to the real thing."

Deidara's grin stays firmly in place. As always, his words are blunt.

"Of course they do, un. You tried turning a temporary, transient, medium into something long-lasting. My art can't be captured perfectly by anyone other than me, and especially not using a medium meant to last longer than a single, fleeting, instant." He observes the newly-painted wall once more prior to continuing. "You captured the cliffside fantastically, though. It reminds me of the mountains in the Land of Earth; especially the shape and the coloring."

Kaminari takes a moment to consider his comments. A second later she smiles brightly.

"I'm happy to hear you say that. My daddy has a lot of books, and one had pictures from the Land of Earth. The rocky region near Iwagakure was my reference. Did you know that I added the mountain for contrast? Since explosions end so quickly, I decided to put something in that lasts longer."

The blonde bomber gives a simple nod. "I noticed the moment I looked at it, un. It would be impossible for you to paint one thing without adding something of the opposing nature." Smirk gaining a hint of arrogance, he continues. "Also, I would like to try my hand at painting my art. True, the concept is out of my comfort zone, but I think I have a way to create the effect you're looking for, un."

* * *

On the second floor at the end of the hallway are two doors. The leftmost door leads to that of an empty room. Many rooms in Kaminari's house are empty. Twelve rooms are spread throughout the second floor in total. Aside from two guestrooms, Kaminari's bedroom, her father's bedroom, and the bathroom, each one is completely barren. When adding closets to the list of useless space, there are ten empty rooms in total. It is the door on the righthand side of the hallway's end, one of these barren closets, that Kaminari leads Deidara to.

The instant the door comes open, Kaminari climbs atop splintering shelves. They are built like platforms and lead as high as the ceiling. She vaults herself upward as a result, each shelf acting as a foothold. Cobalt slants bore holes into the back of her. Although Kaminari isn't looking at him, it is apparent that the expression on Deidara's face is a mixture of bafflement and skepticism.

He loiters in the closet's doorway, calling to her from the ground below.

"What are you doing? All I wanted to know is where you keep your art supplies, un."

A grin is heard in her voice as she shouts downward. Not once does the girl hesitate in ascending. Rough, grainy, planks cutting into her palms don't come close to stopping her.

"Don't question me, Dei. Just start climbing!"

Annoyance rings through his tone, though it isn't heavy.

"Why would I climb a set of shelves in one of your empty closets? And what's with  _'Dei'_ , un?"

"It's more than an empty closet. Follow me, and you'll see!" Cheerfully, she adds, "And Dei is your new nickname! I healed you when you were injured, you're staying here tonight to weather out the storm… I figured that we know each other well enough by now! Why not shorten your name?"

The blonde bomber sighs. Even so, he doesn't protest.

"Fine.  _'Dei'_ it is. I suppose I should feel fortunate. Knowing you, I'm surprised you haven't nicknamed me  _'four-mouths'_  or  _'firecracker'_ , un."

Kaminari wishes that she could view his facial expression. Admittedly, she has grown fond of Deidara's annoyed scowl. This, coupled with the way he narrows his blue slants, makes him seem all the more like a moody adolescent. At times, the fourteen-year-old shinobi seems nothing at all like a highly-skilled killer-for-hire.

Not to mention that Kaminari finds Deidara's expressions cute in general. Whether he is smirking arrogantly or scowling in irritation, there is something about the boy's demeanor that is positively endearing. When she hears masculine steps cross the floor and ascend the shelves, this opinion of him grows.

However, if Kaminari saw the pleasant smile on Deidara's face, as well as the direction of his gaze toward the curve of her buttocks, it is certain that her positive thoughts would falter.

"You're actually following me? Yay! Now it's time for me to show you my stash!"

Three more shelves are all it takes for Kaminari to meet the closet's top. As soon as she is in reach of the ceiling, the girl pushes hard against it with the palms of her hands. A large, wooden, panel comes loose as a result. She pushes it aside, revealing a wide, human-sized, gap. Grinning widely, the girl grips the edge of the gap and pulls herself through using her upper body. Once she is out of the closet and onto the level above, Kaminari calls to Deidara.

"There's an attic up here! Couldn't you tell from the outside of my house? There's a very visible window!"

A few seconds are all it takes for Deidara to join her. He tugs himself in through the entrance, appearing a tad miffed as much as fascinated.

"Why didn't you mention that the closet leads to the attic entrance in the first place? You could have saved us some arguing, un."

Kaminari shrugs. "I thought you would figure it out. Not even  _I'm_  random enough to climb the shelves inside my closet for fun."

Once the short strand of dialogue ends, Kaminari watches as Deidara observes his new surroundings. The attic isn't overly large. If anything, it is one of her house's smallest areas. It could act as a bedroom, if need be. With a wardrobe and tatami mats that were never put into use being stored up here, as well as a lovely window-seat decorating the attic's single window, it could certainly work. In truth, there have been times when Kaminari has slept up here. Either to avoid her mother as a child, or merely because she enjoys the window-seat.

However, in its current state, Kaminari's attic is far from homey. Piled against the room's far wall is a multitude of cardboard boxes. Crates and cans of paint are stacked up in front of them, purposely organized so that they are easily within reach. Although everything is arranged neatly, the space is undeniably crowded. Even so, Kaminari doesn't make a show of pointing it out. She skips over to a stack of paint cans, removing them one-by-one and pushing them toward the room's diminutive clearing. In the section that is free of boxes, there is space for herself, Deidara, and the window-seat, but not much else.

As she continues moving cans, she speaks again.

"Okay. You said you wanted to try painting your explosions yourself, and before getting up here, you said it would take  _a lot_  of paint. What exactly are you planning on doing?"

Deidara, who'd previously been looking around the room, glances over at Kaminari. The grin on his face oozes confidence.

"It won't just take a lot of paint. It will also take a lot of clay, un. As a fellow artist who lives in the town that acts as my clay supplier, I trust that you have plenty of that, too?"

Setting down a canister of red paint, Kaminari nods eagerly. She releases an easy laugh as well.

"Don't worry, Dei. I have five huge bags of clay wrapped up tight. I went through a clay phase about six months ago, but it ended fast. It ends out I have no talent with the stuff!" Turning, she points at the far wall. "All of it should be stashed in those crates over there."

The blonde is moving before she has a chance to finished the word  _"stashed"_. He picks up the crate nearest to him, observing the room closely as he does so. Specifically, what Deidara looks at are the walls. Kaminari watches as he scans them closely, cobalt slants eyeing them from their base near the floor all the way up to the crevice of the ceiling. Due to their place in the attic, the ceiling isn't flat. It arches high into a point. It's as if the very sight of the walls and ceiling makes Deidara smile.

"I'm glad that you brought me to your attic, Kaminari. The size of it and the shape of the ceiling makes it the perfect canvas for my version of your art."

Kaminari laughs teasingly. "What are you talking about? I thought you were re-creating  _ **my**_  version of  _your_  art. And you still haven't told me what you're doing!"

Deidara shrugs, his confident grin still intact. "It doesn't matter if I tell you. You'll get to see what it is soon enough. It's time to turn your art into an explosion, un!" He moves the crate, as well as several paint canisters, to the window seat prior to continuing. "Help me move the clay and the paint out of the way, and then we can move all these boxes to that empty room across the hall."

* * *

Rain has turned to volatile pellets of hail. Thunder roars viciously like a raving lion. Bouts of lightning have transformed to one continuous lightshow of electric blue. While Kaminari and Deidara were moving boxes from the attic to the backmost room on the second level, the duo took a lengthy break to tie down the shutters of the windows and to bar all the doors. They did the best they could to stormproof the house, going as far as tucking towels inside the crevices of the doorways and around the windows. Kaminari didn't want to risk damage to her house, after all, and since Deidara is weathering out the storm here, neither did he.

"I'm really glad you showed up when you did," said Kaminari as they were securing her front door. "I can't imagine how awful it would be to get stuck outside in that!"

Deidara's response was short, and to Kaminari, odd; especially the wry humor evident in his tone.

"It wouldn't be worse than taking shelter inside of a puppet. Rain seeps through the cracks, un."

From their place in the attic, hail can be heard pelting the house from all angles. Whistling from the ire winds can be heard as well, not to mention harsh rumbling. Yet, as the duo stands here now, it's as if the storm doesn't exist. The shutters of the attic's single window are pulled shut, and the wooden panel acting as the door has been adjusted to cover the gap in the floor. As far as Kaminari is concerned, nothing else matters in this moment besides this room. If she could, she would stop the hands of time from turning.

" _Katsu!_ "

Aside from a tarp that Kaminari is using to cover the window along with the window-seat, the tiny attic is bare. Deidara stands at the center, weaving a single hand sign to detonate a small troupe of clay spiders. The spiders remain suspended in the air prior to igniting an instant later. A small explosion sounds off. Rather than being the bright oranges and yellows that Kaminari is used to, the tiny clay spiders splatter into red and purple. The colors splash against the far wall, painting it in a bold fashion that the girl could never replicate with her brush.

Deidara feeds additional clay into the mouths in his hands along with green and blue paint. A moment later more spiders are formed. The flaxen-haired bomber launches them toward the wall, igniting them with a loud  _"Katsu!"_. Green and blue paint coats sections of the wall that were missed by the red and purple. In some places, they overlap. To Kaminari, her attic's far wall is beginning to look like a collage of colors unlike any other. The explosions that she did such a poor job of replicating in her bedroom are being created flawlessly here, appearing every bit as beautiful and uncontrollable as she'd imagined.

It isn't surprising to Kaminari that she was unable to get this result on her own. Paintbrushes are meant for very precise strokes. What better way to capture the wild and untethered feeling of an explosion than to use an actual explosion?

Believing Deidara to be a genius, the girl jumps in place while hugging him from behind. The entire time she squeals with delight.

"It's perfect, Dei! So perfect! You're making my attempt at your art look more explosive than I ever could! It looks amazing! How did you get the idea to do this?!"

Though unable to see his face, Kaminari senses his grin.

"Since you want my art on your walls so badly, I thought that I would find a way to do it myself, un. While I appreciate your admiration, nobody can replicate  _my_  art. My art is something that only  _I_ can create! In the meantime, why not put on a show?" Pausing, the grin in his voice increases. " _Katsu!_ "

Another cluster of spiders is swiftly crafted, sent high onto the wall prior to detonating. Paint the colors of orange and yellow coats the walls, appearing truly like Deidara's artwork. The sight makes Kaminari smile.

Releasing the boy from her forced hug, she moves away from him to fully view the wall. White-washed wood is coated by magnificent bursts of color. Some are miniscule while others are gargantuan. As the girl looks at the scene in its entirety, she realizes that Deidara's paint-based explosions could be mistaken for clouds from a certain angle. Fluffy, colorful, clouds, as if they're made from candy. If the base of the wall was a light shade of pink, Kaminari would probably go as far as calling the scene a sugar sky with cotton candy clouds…

Emerald orbs widening, a glimmering smile sweeps across Kaminari's features. She is already dashing toward the window seat in search of her paint brushes.

"Oh my gosh, Dei! We have to paint this! Pick up a brush and help me!"

Deidara, who had been in the process of crafting additional explosives, turns to look at her. He raises a puzzled brow.

"What are you talking about? I'm already painting it, un."

Kaminari glances at him briefly as she gathers an armful of brushes. They are of all sizes, widths, and varieties, making it possible to get every kind of stroke an artist could want.

"No, you're not painting it! You're setting up the canvas for our actual creation!" She points at the wall using a small roller. "Don't you see it, Dei? Your art isn't just explosions. We can transform your art into anything! Do you see the cotton candy clouds? Because I see them!"

Narrowing cobalt slants in puzzlement, Deidara stares her down skeptically. Following this, he turns his gaze toward the wall. He observes it closely, an index finger held to his chin in thought. When he replies, to Kaminari's surprise as much as her joy, the boy truly does see something.

"I don't see cotton candy, un. The clouds could be part of a poisonous fog, or maybe a genjutsu." Smiling, he confesses, "Either way, you're right, un. They do kind of look like clouds."

Kaminari's grin spreads from ear to ear. In spite of her happiness, the girl sticks out her tongue to blow Deidara the raspberry.

"For crying out loud, Dei! Does everything have to be jutsu-related just because you're a ninja? Forget fighting, and forget your stupid jutsu! Try seeing something happy!"

Deidara's smile morphs into a teasing smirk. "I never said it was the enemy's jutsu, un. The poison cloud is my man, Sasori's. For all you know, we're winning in a battle against the Tsuchikage."

The girl dumps paint into a plastic container, combining white and a touch of red to create soft pink. She gives Deidara the raspberry once more as she dips a wide paintbrush.

"I'm sorry, Akatsuki guy, but you're not painting a ninja battle on the walls of my attic! If you want, you can help me paint my candy paradise."

The boy scoffs. "I say that I see jutsu instead of cotton candy, and I'm demoted back to  _Akatsuki guy_." Smirking, he moves to pick up his own brush. "Fine. I'll help you paint, un. But there are no guarantees that I won't add my own personal touches."

With that said, the duo sets to work. The relentless storm is heard just outside these four walls, yet neither teen could care less. The white base of the wall is transformed into pink, and eventually Kaminari decides to start painting houses crafted from deserts. Deidara, while he'd reluctantly agreed to assist Kaminari in her chosen theme, makes the sections he paints completely his own.

With an amazingly skilled hand for an artist that uses clay, the boy paints people made of candy. At first Kaminari thinks that they are delightful, going as far as hugging Deidara affectionately for his efforts. Upon closer observation, however, the girl realizes that his candy people are trapped in a genjutsu. Later, after she sets to painting some candy citizens of her own, the flaxen-haired bomber sneakily paints flames on the rooftops of several of her houses. For this, Kaminari berates him harshly.

She flings paint at him in irritation using her brush, a large splotch of red landing in golden tresses.

"What the heck, Dei? You just set my desert houses on fire!"

Shrugging, the boy dips the end of his brush into a can of orange. He doesn't hesitate to splatter it on her. The girl's porcelain features are immediately marred by pumpkin-colored streaks.

"Who says that your paradise is happy, un? For all you know, the candy villages are at war."

He says this with a smirk. Despite her exasperation, Kaminari finds herself smiling. If she could, she would stop the hands of time from turning to live in this moment. As soon as the rain stops, she and Deidara both know that it will be gone.

* * *

If Deidara could, he would stop the hands of time from turning to live in this moment. Kaminari has paint on her tiny, calloused, hands. Her medium of choice is also strewn through raven tresses and is spotting her tan, kimono-style, dress. The streaks of orange on her nose and cheeks are only some of the paint that marks her body. Most boys would find this strange, paint-stained, girl unappealing. A girl who lives in the middle of nowhere, without friends or employment, doing odd-jobs to pay the bills and doing art in her free time. Such an introverted, yet extroverted, person comes off as odd to people. Deidara, on the other hand, enjoys Kaminari's oddness.

Such a free-thinker. So open to his art. Saying that his art is beautiful. Claiming that his explosions are capable of being anything. Wanting his help creating her own art. Aside from Kaminari, Deidara cannot recall a single person so accepting of his art. Neither can he recall a person wanting him to help them create something. Kaminari, while she is different, is different in the best of ways.

An open-minded, free-thinking, artist with brilliant ideas, shunned by society. Deidara can relate.

Although she is coated in paint, Kaminari's grass green eyes shine with life. Being raised in Iwagakure, then defecting only to find himself surrounded by missing nin, the flaxen-haired bomber doesn't think that he has ever seen life in someone's eyes like hers. It is true that Kaminari is not beautiful. She is merely cute. Yet, as she stands before him wide-eyed and covered in paint, it is impossible not to see her artistically. In a way that only Kaminari can manage, perhaps she  _is_  beautiful...

Kaminari pauses with her paintbrush, turning away from repairing her pastry houses to face him. She furrows her brow in curiosity, though she smiles simultaneously.

"Dei? Why are you staring at me? I know I have paint on me, but so do you!"

His cobalt gaze is filled with intensity, causing Kaminari to shrink back. She has never been looked at with such an expression. Thus, she hasn't the slightest clue what to make of it. When Deidara raises his brush to splatter her with an additional touch of orange, she frowns deeply in bafflement. When the Akatsuki boy speaks, however, the girl's frown is exchanged for a crimson blush.

"You do have paint on you. A lot of paint. Don't wash it off, though. It looks good on you, un."

They complete the attic wall's candy paradise. Many of the village's candy citizens are in pieces, several desert houses are on fire, and the remaining civilians are under genjutsu. Surprisingly enough, Kaminari doesn't complain. She giggles and rolls her eyes at Deidara. After shaking her head at him in disbelief, she dips her right hand into a bucket of black paint. Once her hand is coated, she presses it against the wall to leave a very effective mark.

Understanding that she means this as a form of signature, Deidara dips his left hand into the same bucket. When he leaves his own handprint, it is directly beside Kaminari's.

The handprints use up the scant amount of paint that Kaminari has left. Of course, this doesn't matter. Deidara makes another appearance in Chouwa two weeks after leaving the next morning. With him, hidden away in a sealing scroll, is enough paint to last Kaminari for the next month.


	7. Chapter Seven

_Disclaimer: I do not own Naruto._

* * *

**Chapter Seven**

Many times within the past four months, Kaminari has gone into town. At first she went on her own, avoiding being seen alongside Deidara by the eyes of the villagers. More than anything, Kaminari hoped that his lack of presence would shift their attitudes toward her. For an entire month, she journeyed into Chouwa alone with her hopes high. Even without Deidara, however, nothing changed. Chouwa's civilians continued remaining hostile.

"It's too late to change things, Kaminari," said Fuji one day when she dropped off her grandmother's laundry. "You've been seen with him twice now. First you helped him in front of Aimi's shop, and then you helped heal him that time he was injured. Don't deny that last one, either. Everyone knows about it."

Kaminari didn't deny it in the slightest. Instead, the girl plead with the woman.

"He was hurt, Fuji! Dei's ribs were broken, he had internal bleeding, and an intestine was torn! I couldn't leave him! Dei would've died otherwise!"

She can't recall a time when Fuji's warm, chocolate, eyes looked colder.

"A dangerous, S-rank, criminal was about to die and make the world a safer place, and you  _healed him_! Do you have any idea what you've done?! Have you ever fathomed the number of people who are dead or going to die because you helped this maniac live?!" The woman sighed. " _'Dei'_  is an Akatsuki, Kaminari. He's a murderer! Why do you think he buys so much clay? He uses it to kill people! What could possibly make you turn your back on Chouwa so that you can befriend a  _murderer_?!"

Even now, several months after this conversation, Kaminari can feel the tears that overtook her. Pain blossoms in her chest at the memory.

"I never turned my back on Chouwa! Chouwa turned its back on me! The only person who hasn't turned their back on me is Dei!"

Kaminari walked out of the candy shop that day and never looked back. Shortly after this, she started entering the village side-by-side with Deidara.

Much of the time, the flaxen-haired Akatsuki is not in need of clay. At times they will go to the market to buy ingredients for meals. Other times they will journey to Aimi's shop to purchase paint. When neither of these is the reason, Kaminari is dragging Deidara inside the village on a whim. There was a time when he'd confessed to never having seen the special stones that are native to Chouwa. As a result, Kaminari took him to town by force to show him old man Nao's rock shop. Another time Deidara mentioned in passing that he'd never eaten manju. The instant those words came out of his mouth, Kaminari lead him inside the village and bought him several.

Pain very much exists for Kaminari. With every day the shunning and the judgement continues, the girl's pain worsens. On some days when she is in her echoing house alone, nothing to talk to besides the floorboards, she occasionally wishes that she could fall asleep in her bed and not wake up. The sole reason that she hasn't done this is because of Deidara's enjoyable and spontaneous visits.

Since the night of the storm, the bomber's visits have become far more frequent. What used to be once a month or longer has dwarfed into multiple visits per month. Kaminari is never certain on when he is coming. According to Deidara, his presence is dependent on the missions the Akatsuki leader,  _Pein_ , assigns. Sometimes Deidara's missions are lengthy. In which case, the boy will not appear for two or more weeks. Other times they are short, and he will visit her again after as little as three days. Sometimes if he has the time, he will stay at her house for multiple nights in a row. It is when Deidara's missions are short and his free time lengthy that Kaminari is happiest.

The shunning. The glares. The shouting, curses, and vulgar gestures. Kaminari coming home wearing cloaks of raw eggs. No matter the agony her past friends and acquaintances put her through, Deidara's visits make everything worth it.

* * *

"I really like them. When we ran out of space and used that sheet, I thought for sure that you would try to wash out the paint, un."

It had always been in Kaminari's mind that they would eventually return her father's boxes to the attic. The next time Deidara visited, however, they painted another wall.

That time Deidara's mass of pain-based explosions appeared like oddly-shaped treetops to Kaminari. As a result, they created an excessively colorful forest. The trunks of the trees were shades of purple and blue, while the tops of them were oranges, reds, and yellows. While the girl worked on creating the textures of the trunks, the flaxen-haired bomber turned smaller spatters of paint into animals. By the end of the project, the attic's second wall appeared like a page from a child's storybook. To Kaminari's chagrin, a child's storybook with the occasional rabid racoon.

A week or so later when Deidara visited again, they decorated a third wall. On this occasion, Kaminari saw gargantuan flowers. Upon relaying this vision to the original artist, the duo got to work. Roses, daffodils, daisies, they'd managed to create all these. Kaminari went as far as painting butterflies in some areas. In contrast, Deidara added very large spiders and caterpillars. The latter of which was eating Kaminari's daises. When the girl pointed this out with a scowl, the boy merely grinned while giving a relaxed shrug.

"What? This is a garden we're painting. Insects are bound to destroy some of the flowers, un."

The girl didn't protest. She giggled and rolled her eyes at him. By this point, it was clear that Deidara purposely added vulgar elements to otherwise delightful artworks. To Kaminari, this quirk seemed a combination of the blunt logic of a shinobi as well as a method of irritating her. Which of these weighed heavier, she wasn't certain. Though, if she had to guess, it would be the concluding option. His grin always does seem particularly joyful when she is pouting in aggravation.

As soon as they got to working on the final wall, however, Deidara's vulgar touches vanished. For the fourth wall, the one bearing the window seat, Kaminari saw fireworks. More than anything, the girl had expected Deidara to add something to make her pout at him. A person or an animal set on fire. Fireworks landing on a house and burning it down. Surprisingly enough, this wasn't the case. He picked up a brush and set to adding touches to his paint splatters, making sure that the lines and strokes were in all the right places. Meanwhile, Kaminari worked on the night sky, painting the base of the wall black as well as adding a crescent moon.

Of every wall Kaminari has painted, in the attic as well as her bedroom, the one displaying the fireworks is her favorite. On each wall, exactly as they'd done on the first one they painted, Deidara and Kaminari signed it using their handprints. The flaxen-haired bomber stamped his left hand onto the walls, and the green-eyed adolescent her right.

Kaminari gapes at the attic the same way she does every time she comes in here. The girl has lived here for her entire life, and until a few months ago, she'd never had a favorite room.

A second later she shifts her gaze to Deidara. She smiles brightly while responding to his comment.

"Of course I didn't wash out the paint! When you finished it, the sheet looked amazing! So I decided to let it dry and make curtains. We're up here so much that the window could use some curtains, anyway."

The last time Deidara was here, they'd run completely out of wall space. The bomber wanted to take their art show to one of the house's empty rooms, but Kaminari responded in the negative. Her daddy would already be angry enough if he found out about her bedroom and the attic. They couldn't alter the rest of the house's rooms, too. Because of this, they went outside to the clothesline and used one of her old sheets for Deidara's art. Once he was finished, Kaminari didn't transform his explosions into anything else. She left them be, enjoying the sight of them in their natural, untouched, state.

Kaminari loved what Deidara did with the portion of white cloth so much that she took out her sewing kit. What was once ragged fabric is now a set of new drapes.

Deidara observes the curtains with a content smile. For a lengthy, unending, period he stares at them. Eventually his gaze shifts to the rest of the room. He studies their artwork intently. First their candy warzone, followed by the forest, then the flowers, and finally the wall with the fireworks. The entire time his cobalt slants flicker, as if mulling something over.

When Deidara asks a question, Kaminari is taken aback.

"I remember seeing tatami mats when we were moving everything to that empty room across the hall. Let's move them in here. That wardrobe, too, un."

Her grass-green orbs are wider than saucers. The girl did not hear his statement regarding the wardrobe. All her focus is on the earlier portion of his suggestion. Crimson overtakes ivory cheeks.

" _Both_  tatami mats? Why would you want to move  _both_  of them in here?"

Upon hearing her response, the golden-haired boy turns in her direction. His smirk is teasing.

"I like it up here. On the nights that I stay, this is probably where I'll sleep, un. Knowing you, you'll fall asleep in here, too. Either while you're painting or while we're talking. We've fallen asleep in the same room before, un." He adds with a saucy wink, "Unless you want to use just  _one_  tatami mat."

Deidara's eyes bore into her playfully. They are slanted, they sparkle youthfully, and in this moment, they are as blue as Kaminari has ever seen. His lips remain curled into a smirk that is jesting as much as suggestive. The girl isn't certain on why, but it causes her stomach to do flips.

When her brief period of speechlessness ends, she stumbles over her words like an uncertain toddler.

"Uh… N-no! Of c-course n-not! That isn't what I meant! Um… T-two tatami mats! Definitely t-two! Two is a good number!"

The boy chuckles at her reaction. Kaminari has never noticed it until now, but whenever Dei laughs, his eyes glimmer like sapphire gems.

"Relax, Kaminari. I was joking, un." Giving another wink, he suggests, "But only if you want it to be a joke."

With that said, Deidara exits the attic. Kaminari doesn't follow immediately. She keeps to herself for at least a minute, questioning why her cheeks won't pale and why her stomach won't settle.

* * *

"When I said I've never had a sleepover before, that doesn't mean that I want one now, un."

Kaminari ascends the closet shelves eagerly. As soon as she reaches her destination, the girl reaches through the entranceway and to the top shelf to grab armfuls of quilts. Along with quilts are large stacks of pillows and a flashlight. The entire time Deidara leans against the attic wall, arching a flaxen brow skeptically. When Kaminari turns around to catch his facial expression, she laughs openly.

"For crying out loud, Dei. What are you so grouchy about? Sleepovers are great! I had lots of them when I was kid." Frowning, she admits, "Actually, I wasn't invited to most of them, and a lot of the other girls didn't show up to mine…" Smile returning full force, she continues. "But that doesn't matter. I can confirm that the sleepovers I did get to go to were great!"

A brief span passes where he doesn't respond. He merely crosses his arms and looks at her. When Deidara does speak, it is with a nod to the material she is toting.

"What's all of that for, un?"

If possible, the girl's grin grows wider.

"We're building a fort! A person can't live and say that they've never built a fort out of blankets and pillows. The window seat is big enough for both of us. We'll build it there!"

The blonde bomber doesn't smile, neither does he frown. He regards Kaminari for a long time with cynicism in his cobalt gaze. Eventually, however, Deidara nods with a smirk of agreement.

"Okay. We'll do your sleepover, un. As long as you get some food up here."

Kaminari nods eagerly. "You read my mind, Dei! There's manju and onigiri in the kitchen! Help me bring them up!"

Deidara doesn't protest much after this. They set their treats on a large tray in the room's corner, munching on them every now and again while creating their fort. The boy isn't happy to start with, going as far as calling the activity juvenile. Of course, once he gets to working, Kaminari doesn't miss the smile on his face. The boy pins blankets together elaborately, creating a castle-like structure. As they line the floor inside their fort with every pillow in the house, Deidara voices his pleasure.

"The best blanket fort you've ever seen. Right, Kaminari? I'd like to see your friends beat something like this! We made a castle, un!"

Kaminari giggles. "I thought you said building a fort was childish."

The bomber shrugs while wearing an easy smirk. "It's only childish when other people do it. When I do it, it's artistic, un."

The duo doesn't hesitate to bring the tray of dessert and rice balls inside their fort with them. It has been dark for more than an hour by this point, the single flashlight sitting between them their only light source. True, Kaminari's house is one of the few buildings in Chouwa with electricity, but what would be the fun in that?

Taking a bite of a rice cake filled with red bean paste, Deidara speaks to Kaminari with his mouth full. Admittedly, the girl used to scold Deidara for this unfortunate habit. It has reached the point where she is used to it now, though. If Dei didn't talk with food in his mouth, he wouldn't seem like the same person.

"You know, I heard that scary stories are something that people do at sleepovers. Do you want to hear one, un?"

A mischievous smirk paints the boy's features. The sudden appearance of the facial expression almost makes Kaminari want to tell him no. Yet, despite her better judgement, she gives a nod.

"Sure!" She says after swallowing a large portion of a rice ball. "Tell it to me! Let me warn you right now, though, that I don't scare easily."

His smirk broadens at her remark. "Alright. I'll keep that in mind, un."

A brief ten minutes is all it takes for the girl to regret her decision. The story starts out pleasantly enough. A duo of lovers going on a journey and ending up in a charming village. When the citizens of the village start being overly kind and refuse to let them leave, however, Kaminari gets the shivers. By the end of the story when the village is revealed to be a settlement of cannibals, she is visibly shaking. Deidara is fully prepared to go into an in-depth description of how both lovers are eaten, but Kaminari has had enough. She screams very loudly for him to stop.

Deidara's reaction is intense laughter. He holds his gut tightly and has tears forming in his eyes.

" _'I don't scare easily'_. What a load of crap! You should see your face, un!"

Kaminari's knees are pulled to her chest, still frightened at the thought of cannibals. A crimson blush ignites her face at his laughter. Pouting, she shouts in response.

"That isn't fair! You didn't tell me your story would be  _ **that**_  scary!"

"Hey, don't point the finger at me, un. You said you wouldn't get scared." Pausing, he adds in a mixture of teasing and sincerity, "And I did stop when you told me to. Give me credit for that much, un."

Fear subsiding, grass green orbs light up at the realization.

"Yeah. You did stop. Thanks!"

Deidara's smirk softens into a smile. "Don't mention it, un."

Their eyes lock inside the dim lighting of their fort. Just like Deidara's previous visit, his blue slant's shine like sapphire gems. His eyes are filled with humor, youth, and life. The quirk of his lips into that familiar smile takes years away from the boy. Rather than a seasoned ninja who has seen more bloodshed than anyone in Chouwa, he appears young. Just like her.

Kaminari doesn't know where they come from, but butterflies build a nest in her stomach. They flutter anxiously. A strange urge enters her mind out of nowhere. An urge to move closer and bury tiny, calloused, fingers in his thick tresses. Deidara's thin lips have never looked more appealing…

In a single instant, however, these foreign impulses vanish.

"Do you want to hear the story about the haunted house in the cemetery, un?"

* * *

"Dei? What are you doing in my kitchen? And where did you get that apron?!"

Living in a village like Chouwa, not much catches Kaminari off guard. Considering how she has been confined to her home rather than at the candy shop, this more so the case than in the past. No interesting tales from travelers. No jokes from Fuji. The girl's life has become increasingly mundane. Upon returning home from delivering the elderly their baked goods, however, she is greeted by one of life's increasingly rare surprises.

In the center of her kitchen, elbow-high in dough for mochi, is Deidara. The boy's blonde tresses are pulled into a low ponytail at the nape of his neck, and he lacks his Akatsuki cloak. Replacing his cloak is a white apron, a sleeveless gray shirt beneath it along with netting. He kneads the mochi dough relentlessly, doing his best to create the proper texture. As Kaminari walks closer, she notes that the mixture for the rice cakes is a different in coloring. It also appears lumpier than what she is used to. On the stovetop, an ingredient for an entirely different dish, are boiled eggs. Beside the stovetop contained by one of her mixing bowls is a type of paste made from fish, which she recognizes as surimi.

The girl raises an inquiring brow at the state of her kitchen, waiting for the bomber to explain. Prior to exiting her house this morning, she hadn't seen Deidara in over a week. The fact that he is here is not something astonishing. Seeing him avidly preparing food, on the other hand,  _is_.

Meanwhile, Deidara glances up from his task to greet her. The sight of his familiar, confident, smirk quickly warms her heart.

"Kaminari, you're back. It's about time, un. Can you peel the eggs? I'm trying to make bakudan and rock mochi, and my hands are full. I haven't cooked in months, un. I forgot how much work it is!"

Although the girl is puzzled, she doesn't protest. She shrugs prior to sauntering toward the stove. It is only once she is in the midst of peeling eggs that she makes an inquiry.

"What's bakudan, and what in the world is  _'rock'_  mochi? I've eaten rice cakes before, but that doesn't look anything at all like what I've eaten! Why are you cooking food in my kitchen anyway?"

Deidara molds the odd-textured dough into spheres and places them onto a lengthy tray one at a time. The bizarre, chestnut, color of the rice cakes causes her to purse her lips. Meanwhile, he turns to look at her incredulously.

"You're being serious, aren't you? Chouwa is more closed off than I thought, un. You've  _never heard_  of bakudan or rock mochi! When you said you'd never heard of them a week ago, I thought you were kidding, but I guess you weren't."

It is that final statement that fills in the blanks for Kaminari. During their last meeting, she'd asked Dei what kind of food he likes. She was hoping to prepare it for him. When he explained that his favorite food is something called "bakudan", Deidara had gone off on a tangent about how it was the best dish ever to grace his taste buds while Kaminari felt utterly confused. The boy mentioned a type of food specific to the Land of Earth that he enjoys, as well.

As she recalls this, it suddenly occurs to her what Deidara's purpose is. Instead of telling her the details of the cuisine, he decided to create them instead. Kaminari can't help smiling at what a  _Deidara_ decision that is.

As she finishes peeling the last of the eggs, she answers her own question with a giggle.

"Don't freak out on me, Dei. Once the food is finished, I'm sure I'll learn what everything is." Pausing, she adds kindly, "Either way, I'm going to go out on a limb and guess that  _bakudan_  is boiled eggs covered in surimi. And your  _'rock'_  mochi must be the rice cakes from the Land of Earth. It's food from where you're from!"

Deidara finishes crafting the last of the mochi and moves toward the sink. After washing his hands, he starts the task of coating the eggs in fish paste. The whole time he replies with an animated smile.

"Even if I'm bitter at Iwa and old man Tsuchikage, I still have a weakness for my birthplace's food, un. You will, too. I dare you to taste this and say that it isn't fantastic!"

Her happiness grows at the sight her golden-haired companion's grin. "I'm sure I'll love it, Dei. Thanks a bunch for making it!"

Later while Deidara is bathing, Fuji pops in to Kaminari's house to drop off her grandmother's laundry. Hungry from the trek, the woman steals one of the leftover mochi from the kitchen table. She reluctantly confesses that it's the best that Kaminari has made.

* * *

"It's so hot today! I thought it would be cooler, un."

Kaminari kneels at the edge of the river, roughly running clothes over an aged scrub board. Save for her slitted green qipao and a set of undergarments, the girl wears nothing. Treading water some distance behind her is Deidara. He is adorned only by a pair of boxers, not even his shinobi headband and hair tie present. Kaminari's back is to the boy as she does her best to complete the task at hand. Even so, she is unable to resist glancing over at him with a smile.

"Of course it's hot today. It's the middle of July! Just be happy that you're here and not on a mission in the Land of Wind."

Deidara ducks his head under prior to emerging a moment later. The flaxen-hair bomber floats on his back.

"I'm not complaining. It's surprising is all. The Land of Rivers has always been known for having mild temperatures, un."

The girl removes a tea stain from the front of a pale, blue, yukata. Once this is done, she places the damp clothing in a wooden barrel sitting on the shoreline. Though she faces away from him, she manages a response.

"The weather in the Land of Rivers  _is_  mild. Whoever said that just forgot to mention that it's only mild nine months out of the year. For three months during the summer, the temperatures are stifling! I've lived here my whole life, though, so I'm used to it."

Floating with his arms tucked beneath his head, the boy answers with nonchalance.

"I'm just as used to the heat as you are, un. I've gone on many missions in hot climates, the Land of Wind being one of them. You're right about that." Sighing, he adds, "Though I admit that it's a lot more humid here, un. That's something that I'm not used to."

Kaminari is now washing a simple, gray, kimono. Unfortunately, this article has a sauce stain that refuses to be removed. She scrubs at it with all her strength.

"It's always humid in the Land of Rivers. Why do you think I like washing clothes outside? It makes it easier to deal with."

A long time passes after this. Kaminari washes garment after garment, the barrel on the riverside slowly becoming full. However, as full as it grows, the mountain of clothing beside her is undeniable. The boy continues swimming, rotating between floating, treading water, and diving under. Every now and again he glimpses at the raven-haired adolescent. An hour has passed. Unfortunately, much of the gargantuan laundry pile remains. Along with this, Kaminari's brow is drenched in perspiration and her face wrought with fatigue.

Frowning, Deidara calls to her from the river's center.

"Hey, Kaminari! How about a break, un?! We've been out here for three hours, and it's been one hour since you've talked to me!" A combination of banter and sarcasm in his tone, he adds, "When  _you're_  not talking of all people, I like to think of it as a warning sign, un!"

Her hands are raw by this point and her arms tired. Upon hearing the boy's voice, she lifts her eyes from the scrub board and glances at him. Deidara's golden tresses are damp with moisture as he swims from one bank to the other with lazy strokes. From Kaminari's place at the opposite shore, the cool water looks exceptionally refreshing. Rather than sitting knee-deep in the river washing clothes, she suddenly wishes that she was fully emerged in the cool liquid with Dei. With the sun beating down on her back and sweat pooling in various places on her body, she could really use a dip.

That, however, is when Kaminari is reminded of the laundry that needs to be finished. She glances at the pile with a frown prior to replying to the bomber.

"I would love to swim with you, Dei, but I can't! I need to get these clothes washed and hung on the clothesline!"

The smirk painting his face makes her far warmer than the humidity.

"If I help you hang and fold them later, will you swim? This is getting boring, un!"

Nibbling her lower lip, she gazes at the laundry. A second later she shifts grass-colored eyes to Deidara. His hair floats atop the surface of the water in a flaxen cascade as he swims in place. Cobalt slants stare at her beckoningly, competing with the sky for the prize of most blue. Thin lips are quirked into the bomber's familiar smirk, placed directly between a small nose and pointed chin. Kaminari isn't certain what emotion takes her over, but suddenly, Dei looks very enticing.

She bites down on her lip more forcefully before speaking. Why the girl feels nervous, she doesn't know. At the same time, however, there is an odd form of anticipation.

"You know what, Dei? I think I will take a break!" she shouts with a smile. "Make sure you help me finish the laundry, though. Otherwise I'm not making you dinner tonight!"

He replies jestingly. "I already said I would help you! If you're late getting the old people their clothes, you won't get paid, un. If you don't earn money, how will you feed me?!"

Kaminari giggles and rolls her eyes at the remark. "If you only visit because I feed you, then I have a half mind to kick you out!"

Deidara's smirk morphs into something unreadable with this next statement. "I show up for reasons besides the food. Trust me, un."

Standing to her feet, Kaminari maneuvers so that she is ankle deep in the water. Her green qipao, while it is useful for washing clothes, becomes unbearably heavy when fully emerged. The girl struggles when the few strips of lower fabric are weighed down by water. The girl can't imagine how difficult it would be to move if the entire garment were wet. It is for this reason that she pulls the qipao off over her head, nothing left covering her porcelain skin save for thin, white, panties and a matching bra. As soon as the article of clothing is deserted on the shore, Kaminari raises a hand to her raven locks and frees them from their tight ponytail. The hair tie is tossed atop her qipao.

Kaminari doesn't notice when Deidara's eyes widen to the size of saucers. Neither does she see the slight parting of his lips. When his mouth quirks into an unnatural smile, on the other hand, Kaminari notices immediately. She enters the water while sporting a bewildered frown, oblivious to the bounce of her generous bosom as well as the sway of her hips. As odd as it is, she isn't certain whether to place Deidara's facial expression as delight or agony.

"Dei, why are you looking at me like that? Is something wrong?" she asks a moment later.

When Deidara speaks, the same oddness seen in his facial expression is heard in his voice.

"No. Nothing is wrong. Nothing  _at all_."

Kaminari regards him puzzledly for an endless minute, but then she shrugs. A few second after this, she grins widely.

"Well, okay then. Why are we treading here? Let's swim!"

Deidara doesn't protest. They swim for nearly an hour, splashing each other as well as racing from one bank to the other. At one point Deidara mysteriously vanishes only to appear behind Kaminari and grab her around the waist. They wrestle in the river playfully, Kaminari trying to escape while Deidara retains his grasp. She kicks, and squirms, and shoves at him, each of them laughing. During the struggle, the flaxen-haired boy's hands grope her breasts as well as her buttocks. She doesn't scold him, though. With the amount she was fighting him, it was most definitely an accident.

A short time after this, when she separates from Deidara to resume washing clothes, she asks the bomber to follow her. There are already garments that need to be hung on the clothesline. It is much to Kaminari's dismay that Deidara refuses. He treads in place for approximately twenty minutes before coming to shore.

* * *

"I can't believe you've never looked at the stars before. That's insane, un!"

Deidara was excited when he learned that the window of their attic bedroom comes open. Until Kaminari told him otherwise, he'd always been with the assumption that it was permanently sealed. The instant Deidara shoved the glass and wooden panel upward, he'd deserted his Akatsuki cloak on the window seat prior to standing on the sill. He'd always noticed that the edge of Kaminari's roof is low-hanging. Thus, making it perfectly in reach. The flaxen-haired bomber hoisted himself atop the roof using the hanging edge, strengthening his grasp with chakra to make the climb easier. Once Deidara had a foothold, he reached down, grabbed Kaminari by both wrists, and pulled her onto the roof beside him.

They currently sit atop one of the roof's flat sections, staring up at the night sky. Gems of white bedazzle the inky canvas, the occasional shooting star flying past. High above the duo floats a silver crescent, the moon gazing down at them languidly. Kaminari's glistening, grass green, orbs come to life with wonder as she takes in the view. The sight of her brings a smile to Deidara's face.

"I've never even thought of going outside at night before! As soon as it gets dark I usually go inside, eat dinner, take a bath, and sleep. Why didn't anyone ever tell me how beautiful nighttime is?"

"Probably because they've never seen the world at night themselves. Chouwa is a village that lives during the day and sleeps at night. It's different when you're a ninja, un. When you're training and going on missions, you see the world from every angle of the moon and sun."

Silence lapses after this. Kaminari lays down in her spot, gaze never leaving the stars. Deidara lays down beside her, living in this moment. Soon enough, their time of quietude and gazing at the night sky will be gone.

When Kaminari asks a question a minute or so later, his assumption is proven correct.

"Dei, when was the first time you looked at the stars? Can you remember?"

Deidara furrows his brow at the inquiry. This action isn't from puzzlement, but rather, from a combination of surprise and consideration. He actually does remember his first time looking at the stars. It isn't necessarily a fond memory, but it is a clear one. Truthfully, he hesitates to tell the tale…

Yet, the boy finds himself answering in honesty. The bitterness in his tone isn't missed.

"I remember, un. The first time I looked at the stars, I was four. Old man Tsuchikage showed them to me. The senile sack of bones was trying to be comforting."

Kaminari frowns at the remark. Turning so that she is on her side, she looks at him.

"Really? What for?"

Deidara doesn't face her. He keeps his gaze trained skyward.

"He felt bad. It was the one-year anniversary of my parents' deaths. They died in the Third Great Shinobi War, un." Pausing, he adds harshly, "If old man Tsuchikage was any mentor at all, he would have known not to comfort me, un. Death happens if you're a shinobi; especially during wartime. Onoki should have supported my art instead. That would have made him a good mentor."

A brief moment of silence passes. When Deidara glimpses at Kaminari, he sees that this is because her lips are pursed in thought.

"Dei, if you don't mind me asking, do you remember your parents?" she asks at last.

The flaxen-haired bomber scoffs. "No. I don't remember their faces, their personalities, or anything else about them, un. I can't even remember their names! A three-year-old can't possibly remember his parents. Call it infantile amnesia." Bitter tone returning, he adds, "It's part of the reason it was ridiculous for old man Tsuchikage to comfort me, un."

Kaminari purses her lips once more prior to making a confession. "I don't think it was ridiculous for the Tsuchikage to comfort you. I just think he went about it the wrong way. Instead of having you look at stars, he should've asked to see your art. I'm sure you were an artist even back then." Pausing slightly, she continues, "That's what I would do now, too. You're an artist. Art is in your blood! Sharing your art with others would a bigger comfort than star gazing any day."

Deidara smiles at the comment. In truth, he doesn't know the exact reason why he comes back to Kaminari. Part of it is because she cooks better than anyone in the Akatsuki, including himself. Another reason is because of her cheerful personality. He wasn't fond of it at first, but after being around so many dreary people for such a long time, her megawatt grin has grown on him. Not to mention Kaminari's luscious body.

Normally the girl wears her kimono-style dresses and long pants, but when she exchanges them for her slitted green qipao, the view is more than worth it. As for their occasional swims in the nearby river, they make him happy for days afterward. Her hips and buttocks have a wonderful fullness, her waist a lovely hourglass shape, and her breasts are marvelously plump. Along with this, Kaminari's white undergarments grow sheer when wet. Every time they swim, Deidara is unable to resist a friendly wrestling session. Also every time, he has to stay in the water for several minutes after Kaminari leaves to  _settle down_ …

Secretly, he has been longing to kiss her, caress her bare flesh, and take her for months. The boy doesn't want to scare Kaminari to death, though. Considering their chosen hobbies, anything they do should be artistic. How can they create an explosion of art if one of them is too frightened to enjoy it? Of course, either way, Deidara fantasizes of sleeping on a single tatami mat one of these days…

In this moment, however, Deidara doesn't think of such things. Not of her cooking, of her smile, or of his erotic desires. Instead, he focuses on Kaminari's most recent statement:  _Art is in his blood_. If Deidara had to pinpoint a single reason for always coming back, that would have to be it. Kaminari's absolute respect for his art.

Sitting upright once more, the boy continues smiling as he makes an inquiry.

"Speaking of my art, I've been working on something new. I've created art bigger and better than before, un! Do you want to see it?"

Kaminari's eyes light up like the stars above, excitement clear in her gaze. Deidara's grin widens as a result.

"Of course I want to see it! You said you made something bigger? Show it to me!"

* * *

_Two Days Later_

Deidara's most recent mission was shorter than others. Sneak into the master bedroom of a large, riverside, manor and assassinate the owner. This riverside manor was only a brief, twelve-hour, journey away from Chouwa. Upon reaching it, locating the master bedroom, identifying their target, and ending him took less than twenty minutes. A single clay spider was their only weapon. Deidara wanted to use an entire onslaught of birds, but Sasori forbade it. Their instructions from Leader Pein was to perform this mission quietly. However reluctant, the flaxen-haired bomber complied.

Luckily, such a quick, unartistic, mission hasn't been a complete loss. The entire journey following the assassination, Deidara has been smirking happily with lightness in his footsteps. Sasori merely rolls his eyes from beside him. Two months short of a year has passed since the start of Deidara's frequent trips to Chouwa, and unbeknownst to him, the puppeteer knows exactly the reason. At one point, Sasori had to go as far as explaining the details of Deidara's absence from the hideout to the other Akatsuki members. Sasori didn't give specifics. What he said was specific enough to qualify as an explanation, yet vague enough to cause the others to gawk.

"Of course Deidara hasn't been coming to the hideout," he'd said bluntly to the others. (Save for Itachi, who was absent.) "He's taken up residence with some girl in one of the nearby villages. When we're not on missions, he's usually with her."

The only reaction Sasori was met with was surprise. Aside from Hidan, who guffawed loudly.

"First Itachi has a woman, and now Deidara? How are these guys so stupid?! I would never be stupid enough to get mixed up with some woman!" Much to the puppeteer's confusion, his violet eyes widened with horror a few minutes later. "Shit! I  _ **am**_  that stupid! Jashin-damnit, I have to go!"

He exited the Akatsuki hideout with his scythe in tow and didn't look back. Meanwhile, Pein pulled Sasori aside and gave him a message to relay to Deidara; a message that he plans on giving him now as they walk alongside each other.

Glancing at the bomber through Hiruko's eyes, Sasori sighs internally. Deidara appears so content that it's almost scary. Is it normal for a young shinobi to smile like this?

Not bothering to answer the question, he speaks aloud. The statement comes out brusquely.

"Bring her to the northeast branch hideout, Deidara. Stop living in Chouwa like a fool, and move in with Itachi and Kazumi."

Deidara, who was previously staring ahead in thought, shifts his attention to his partner. Cobalt slants brim with perplexity.

"What did you say, Sasori? I didn't hear you. I wasn't expecting you to say anything, un."

Sasori repeats himself, this time more gruffly. "This girl you've moved in with, bring her to the northeast branch hideout. Leader Pein set it aside for Akatsuki women and children because of Kazumi. If you're involved with someone, and I know you are, take her there. You're a member of the Akatsuki, Deidara. You shouldn't be living in a village. It's a danger to our organization."

Deidara doesn't respond for a moment. He regards the puppeteer skeptically. When he finally answers, cynicism is heard.

"The northeast branch hideout? I avoid that hideout like a disease! I don't even like spending the night there, un! Why would I  _move in_  to the same hideout as Itachi?!"

"Didn't I already tell you, brat? To protect our organization. And this girl you're with, if she means anything to you."

The blonde wrinkles his nose in disgust. "That's the stupidest thing I've ever heard, un! Moving Kaminari into an Akatsuki hideout wouldn'tbe protecting her! Even with the shunning and the judgement that Chouwa is putting her through, she's better off in that paranoid hick town than in a hidden base filled with criminals!"

Sasori grunts in aggravation. "The northeast branch hideout isn't filled with criminals. The only people living there as of now are Itachi and Kazumi."

Deidara snorts, ever the skeptic. "I don't care what you say. Kaminari isn't moving into an Akatsuki hideout. She's staying in Chouwa, un."

* * *

Before Deidara left a couple days earlier, they'd had a simple conversation over breakfast. That simple conversation had started with a simple remark from the golden-haired boy. He said that he couldn't believe that Kaminari had lived for fourteen years without stargazing. The entire concept was insane to him! Kaminari, however, had ignored the gist of his comment. Her concentration had been on the age he granted her. The girl giggled as she sipped her tea.

"Fourteen? That isn't right, Dei. My birthday is on the third of March, and it's the beginning of September now. I turned fifteen six months ago!"

For a moment Deidara eyed her in surprise. When he replied, it was with a relaxed shrug.

"I guess we've known each other longer than I thought. My birthday is on the fifth of May. Fifteen was four months ago for me, un."

After that, the topic of conversation had shifted to something else. What exactly they'd talked about, Kaminari can't remember. All she knows is, for some reason, that snippet of conversation concerning their birthdays has stayed stuck inside of her mind.

They're both fifteen. They've been fifteen for months, and the other never even knew about it! Not only that, but did either of them get a birthday celebration? The Akatsuki isn't the kindest group by the sound of it, so Deidara's special day was probably treated like any other. As for Kaminari, she certainly didn't celebrate. The girl purchased a tray of manju and threw a single-person party, but that wasn't much fun. Daddy used to come home for her birthday, and if something happened where he couldn't make it, he would at least send a gift. That hasn't happened since she turned eleven, though.

Aside from birthdays, her daddy is five months late for the five-month deadline he gave her in his most recent note. Even when counting the one-month period of leniency she gave him, thinking that Daddy might take six months to come home instead, he is still four months late. At this point, Kaminari wonders if her father is going to contact her again  _at all_.

Normally, this line of thinking would depress the girl. On one of her bad days, it might even make her dissolve into tears. Recently, however, she has been thinking of Daddy less and less. Right now, as an example, she lets the reality of her father's tardiness go without a second thought. Kaminari has one goal in mind, and that is to get to town so she can buy eggs and vanilla extract. Deidara said that the mission he is currently on won't take long. He will be gone for two days; three at the most. Then he will return to her. As soon as Deidara comes back, Kaminari wants to have a cake ready to celebrate their belated birthdays. Nobody else cares that they were born, but this doesn't mean that they can't.

Kaminari will have to hurry, of course. Two days have gone by already! Deidara has never been late, and she wants the cake to be a surprise.

A pleasant smile painting her face at the thought of surprising Deidara, the girl skips down the dirt path leading inside the village. Summer's stifling heat came to an end with September, making the journey all the more tolerable. People shout at Kaminari from their windows and from opposite side of the path while others glare.  _"Trader"_ ,  _"backstabber"_ ,  _"heathen"_ , and  _"Akatsuki slut"_  are amongst mild insults, more colorful individuals spewing curses as well as giving speeches regarding their hatred. However, Kaminari doesn't bat an eye. She continues walking. Her smile is false rather than genuine by now, but nevertheless, the girl retains it. Inside her mind, she reminds herself that as long as Dei keeps coming back, everything will be alright.

The trek to Chouwa's marketplace feels like decades rather than minutes. Upon reaching her destination, decades feel as though they lengthen to centuries. It is the height of day. As a result, the shops and wooden stands lining the street are bustling. The girl forces herself to keep her composure. Short raven locks are arranged flawlessly into a ponytail, her green kimono-style dress doesn't contain a single wrinkle, and she swings a wicker basket dandily. Kaminari's steps are kept light and her posture cheerful. Every eye on the street bores into her. The chipper mothers, playful children, and kind fathers suddenly seem like a pack of ravenous wolves preparing to feast.

At the end of the block is the stand that she needs. It is a stand ran by a young woman who sells eggs, flour, sugar, and spices. It isn't far; a mere two-minute walk away. Of course, with the weight of the villagers' daggers, Kaminari may as well be hiking across Sunagakure.

She doesn't make eye-contact. Kaminari keeps her eyes trained straight ahead on the desired stand. The girl doesn't even look at the saleswoman. Her gaze is trained on the ingredients being sold. Unfortunately, as much as she tries blocking Chouwa's civilians out, there is no missing their malice. This is made evident due to harsh whispers.

"I can't believe she's still brave enough to show her face around here."

"What's with the dopey grin? We all know she's scared of us."

"How many times do you think she's slept with him? The slut."

"Not so brave without the Akatsuki boy, is she? Look at her shake."

"That Akatsuki isn't with her right now, is he? Why don't we do something about Kaminari while we have the chance!"

This could either be called the march of shame or the march of fear. Kaminari makes this journey multiple times per week, and is still unable to decide which applies more. Upon reaching her desired destination, she already feels exhausted. No doubt the trip back will be thrice as tiring.

Brushing imaginary dirt off the skirt of her kimono, Kaminari adjusts her smile prior to looking at the woman selling the products. Like every other villager, the thirty-year-old scowls at her with frosty blue eyes. Kaminari doesn't give the woman time to speak. She is already greeting her falsely with joy.

"Good afternoon, Cho. Can I purchase some eggs and vanilla extract? I want to bake a cake."

The marketplace, which is normally bursting with chatter, has fallen into eerie silence. Although she doesn't face them, the eyes of each individual weighs heavily. Heaviest of all are the frosty eyes of Cho. The stand worker looks as though she would like nothing more than to spit in her tea.

"A cake? Who's the cake for? Buttering up your criminal boyfriend?"

Kaminari releases a forced laugh, sounding more pained than humorous.

"We've been over this before, Cho. Dei and I are friends more than lovers. Just sell me what I need, and I promise I'll go away."

The woman's eyes narrow, akin to that of a viper. "Sorry, dear, but we're all out of vanilla extract. Out of eggs, too, I'm afraid. Looks like you're out of luck."

A dense mixture of sadness and agony overwhelms her features. Though she still smiles, it fractures more by the second.

"I know you're not out of them, Cho. They're sitting right in front of me. Please sell me some eggs and vanilla extract? I really need them."

Cho isn't the person who responds to her pleas. Rather, it is an old man from the road's other side. Specifically, old man Nao who owns Chouwa's specialty rock shop.

"Why are you baking the boy cakes? Is he losing interest in you? Afraid that he'll use you and leave you all alone before moving onto his next victim? That's what criminals do, Kaminari! You're an idiot for going off alone with an Akatsuki!"

Sighing, Kaminari's smile shatters completely. Left in its place is a devastated frown. As she turns around to face old man Nao, her facial expression is plain.

"No. That's not it at all! I just want celebrate our birthdays!" Desperation echoes through her voice with this confession. "Deidara would never do that to me!"

Old man Nao grimaces, toothless mouth wide with exasperation. "For crying out loud, child! This Akatsuki fellow must really have you brainwashed! You're an imbecile for listening to him!"

The elder carries his own wicker basket. Glaring at the girl, he reaches inside to pull out a fresh, intact, egg. With the fragile shell in hand, he shouts deafeningly.

"If you want your eggs so bad, you can have them!"

The egg flies before Kaminari has the slightest chance at evasion. Then again, even if she did have the opportunity to avoid it, she wouldn't have. She does what she does nearly every time she enters the village alone. Kaminari stands still with her head held high, bracing for the onslaught. As soon as that first egg contacts her forehead, the rest start to come. She doesn't have so much as an instant to process the sticky, yellow, yolk that drips down the center of her face. Less than a second later, raw eggs fly at her from every direction. From the girl's vantage point, it is similar to a hailstorm.

"Here's your eggs, you back-stabbing trader!"

"Bake your psycho killer a nice cake with these!"

"I hope your Akatsuki boyfriend kills you!"

"Crawl into a hole and die like the worm you are, Kaminari! You don't deserve any better!"

Not a single centimeter is left uncovered. The skin of her face, Kaminari's hair, and her kimono-style dress drips with raw egg as well as bits of shells. So slimy is her skin that she feels similar to a frog. Unfortunately, long after she is coated, the eggs don't stop coming. The girl is practically dyed yellow. She doesn't move, though. Kaminari stands still and accepts the villagers' punishment, not expecting it to end anytime soon.

It is right as she has this thought, however, that all Chouwa is taken by surprise. From the block's other end, where the candy shop, clay shop, and rock shop are located, an echoing  _ **bang**_  is heard. It causes the ground to shake violently. The villager's drop their projectiles as a result, immediately turning in the thunderous sound's direction. To everyone's shock as much as their dismay, the  _ **bang**_ was old man Nao's rock shop. It ignites into a massive burst of orange fire, not a stone or a shutter left of the structure. Although the explosion is inanimate, the ravaging flames appear nothing short of livid.

"What is going on, un?! Someone better tell me what you paranoid freaks are doing to Kaminari, or I'll blow Chouwa higher than the sky!"

The crowd surrounding Kaminari disperses to the edges of the road, leaving the girl standing alone in the earthen path's center. Once everyone is cleared from her sightline, Deidara is seen loitering a short distance away. Her eyes widen at the sight of him. Deidara's jaw is clenched tightly and his pearly teeth are revealed in the form of a snarl. Cobalt slants are narrowed in anger more volatile than Kaminari has seen. When a full minute passes where nobody answers, he weaves that familiar hand sign while shouting an enraged  _"Katsu!"_. The candy shop is the next to go up in flames, his jaw clenching and eyes narrowing farther. Kaminari has never seen Deidara so livid.

"You rigid, art-hating, hypocrites think it's okay to throw eggs at Kaminari?! You think it's okay to insult her and tell her to  _die_ , un?! How can you call me evil for being an Akatsuki when you're the people who ostracize and torment the most artistic individual in this backwards village?! Look at her! She's covered in eggs! You can't even see her face and hair under that crap, un! I'm the S-rank criminal here, but somehow,  _ **I'm**_  not the one that did this!"

Chouwa's villagers gawk at Deidara, each of them shuddering visibly in horror. Considering how he used his clay-detonating jutsu to destroy two buildings, Kaminari should be equally terrified. Yet, she isn't. All she can do is smile at the sight of him.

At some point, Deidara and Kaminari lock eyes. The flaxen-haired bomber saunters toward her when this happens. His expression still contains anger, though not as much as when he was shouting at the villagers a second prior. Kaminari speaks to him as he nears her, not caring that they are surrounded by others. Her eyes light up.

"Dei! You made it back early! I was going to bake us something, but I didn't get the chance."

Blue eyes narrow. "Does this happen all the time? Why didn't you tell me, un?!"

Kaminari shrugs nonchalantly. "You never asked."

He scoffs in irritation. "Right. Because  _'Did you get pelted by eggs while I was gone?'_  is a normal question, un." Looking over the frightened crowd, he adds loudly, "But if it ever happens again, I'll definitely find out, un! If this situation ever repeats itself, Chouwa will be blasted out of existence!"

A collective gasp of horror fills the air. More than anything, Kaminari wants to tell him that he's going overboard. Since when are a few eggs worth the existence of a village? Before she has time to formulate the words, however, Deidara takes her by the arm and leads her out of the marketplace. Though his voice is lower, this next comment is heard by everyone all the same.

"They're not worth our time, Kaminari. Let's get out of here, un."


	8. Chapter Eight

_Disclaimer: I do not own Naruto._

* * *

**Chapter Eight**

Deidara and Kaminari sit near each other on the attic's window seat, legs entwined as they stretch across it. Kaminari stares out the window with her grassy eyes void, slowly sipping green tea from a porcelain cup. Nothing can be seen besides an emerald field and the edge of the river. Yet, the girl trains her gaze on the scenery as if it is the most intriguing thing ever to meet her eyes. Deidara, too, sips from a cup of tea. He watches Kaminari intently. An unreadable frown, stiff posture, and an empty facial expression. This certainly isn't normal.

Once they returned from the village, Kaminari immediately retreated to the bathroom to wash the egg off herself. She spent the better part of an hour in there. The girl didn't say a word to Deidara when first entering the house, and since bathing, she still hasn't spoken to him. The boy understands that Kaminari isn't snubbing him. A person like her couldn't snub someone even if she tried. To Deidara, Kaminari seems to be feeling a tense combination of shame and embarrassment. Why she didn't feel this the moment he saw her covered in egg in the marketplace, he isn't certain. More than anything, her current emotions seem like a latent after-effect.

When Kaminari finally says something to end the suffocating quietude, she sounds nothing short of mortified.

"I'm sorry you had to see that, Dei. I didn't want you to." Sighing despairingly, she confesses, "If you want the truth, Chouwa has been getting  _a lot_  worse."

She doesn't look at him once during the apology. Even so, Deidara spots the tears that start to form. A single, silver, droplet leaves a moist trail down her ivory cheek.

"Did I ever tell you that things were bad even before we met? Sometimes I wonder if they really hate me because of you." The girl chokes on a sob. "Things would have gotten this bad at some point no matter what. I'm the village weirdo, and I always have been. My own father doesn't even like me! Why else would he leave me here all alone?"

It is no longer a lone tear that mars her face. Multiple droplets fall, streaming down both cheeks and dripping to her chin. She does her best to withhold the tears, but it is of no use. They come in torrents.

This girl who is normally so chipper is falling apart. Pain stamps itself across her features in a fashion more visible than daylight, the emotion overwhelming her bloodshot eyes. She shudders visibly in agony. Never has Deidara seen Kaminari more fragile.

"I can't really blame you for not saying anything. It's probably the most pathetic thing you've ever heard. The girl who can't fit in inside her own village and was deserted by Daddy." Wiping tears from her eyes using the sleeve of her kimono, she whispers, "I wish I wasn't so weird."

Much like Kaminari stated, Deidara hasn't said a word. Although, this isn't for the reasons she believes. Deidara gawps at her. He isn't sympathetic. Rather, he is in a state of disbelief. This girl who loves his art, asks for his help with her own art, and has made the past ten months of his life enjoyable wishes that she wasn't herself.

It is for this reason that Deidara stops resisting.

Slanted, cobalt, eyes widen with ardent heat that Kaminari doesn't see. He silently adjusts their legs so that they are no longer entwined, Kaminari's resting on top. Following this, the boy sets his porcelain cup aside on the window sill. It is when both of his hands are free that he grabs the calves of Kaminari's legs, pulling her closer. The abrupt gesture elicits a surprised gasp from Kaminari, the girl turning to face him for the first time since entering the attic. She recognizes the expression in his eyes almost immediately. Crimson colors her features as a result.

"D-Dei? What are you doing?"

He doesn't respond verbally. Grasping her outer thighs, he tugs her closer still. Once she is within reach, Deidara adjusts both arms to grip the small of her back. In a single, fluid, motion, Kaminari is in his lap. She gapes at him with wide, flabbergasted, eyes, stunned by the feeling of their sudden nearness. The two of them have been in close contact before, but never in a position like this. Kaminari opens her mouth in preparation to speak. However, Deidara doesn't give her the opportunity. An instant is what it takes for him to move his hands so that they are cupping both sides of her face, his lips crashing down on hers.

Kaminari's eyes are the size of dinner plates. Deidara's kiss is long, rough, and filled with fervor. Although his lips are chapped, it is mere seconds before Kaminari's rigid posture melts and she returns the gesture full-force. Calloused fingers weave into his thick, golden, tresses as she kneels on either side of him. How long their zealous kiss lasts, neither of them knows. All they know is that, eventually, their lungs burn. As a result, they pull apart for air.

The raven-haired girl breathes deeply, face far more flushed than previous. Deidara, on the other hand, doesn't take much time to recuperate. He trails small, soft, kisses along her neck, explaining himself during brief lapses.

"You're weird. So what, un?" He says. "I like you this way, un. You're the only good thing about this paranoid village."

Deidara deserts her neck for her collar bone, gently sucking on the patch of skin there. Kaminari releases a squeak as he does this, causing him to smirk against her flesh.

"You're too good for this place. So am I. We're artists. We don't conform, un."

The boy trails to her throat a minute or two later, suckling sensation less gentle and more earnest. She rewards him with another squeak, stuttering when she attempts responding. Deidara smirks again at the palpable pleasure heard in her voice.

"I-is t-that your advice to me? D-don't conform to C-Chouwa?"

"Absolutely, un," he states bluntly. "You didn't turn your back on them. They turned their backs on you. And I can relate, un. What do you think happened to me back in Iwa?"

Kaminari no longer stutters. Much to Deidara's dismay, her voice shifts from contentment to anxiety.

"But, Deidara, it got so bad for you in Iwa that you defected. You're not asking me to leave Chouwa?"

It is here that Deidara ceases his erotic gestures. He raises his head to look her in the eye. The girl's expression is uncertainty. Frowning, the bomber speaks to her seriously.

"I actually am asking you to leave, but I won't make you, un. Whether you stay in Chouwa or come with me is your decision. Just know that getting out of this backwater village is an option." Sighing, he continues. "I wasn't going to tell you at first. Personally, I think it's a bad idea, un. But Leader Pein suggested bringing you to the Akatsuki's northeast branch hideout. Apparently he isn't happy with me living in Chouwa. If I'm involved with a girl, Pein would prefer having her in the Akatsuki's reach instead of out of it. It would make Leader more comfortable, un."

Uncertainty instantly morphs to fear. Grass-colored eyes shine with it.

"You want to take me away to live in an Akatsuki hideout? Isn't that dangerous?! People like Sasori of the Red Sand and that Uchiha who murdered his clan are in the Akatsuki!" Flinching, she adds, "And even if Daddy doesn't like me, what if he comes back? I would like to see him one last time before leaving."

That final sentence fills Deidara with irritation. He has been coming to see Kaminari for almost a year, and not once has he seen her father. She really cares  _that much_  about seeing the jerk before leaving this sorry place behind?

Despite his frustration, however, the bomber shrugs.

"Okay. If you don't want to go, then I won't take you, un. Like I said, just remember that the option is there."

Once this is said, Deidara lowers his head to kiss her again. This time he captures her lips. He has waited far too long to kiss Kaminari.

* * *

Kaminari gets dressed in her bedroom the next morning, happily adorning her tan kimono. She hums while sliding into it, nothing short of joyful. Deidara's every kiss runs through her mind on auto-play. The soft ones, the rough ones, the passionate ones. True, Deidara kissed her and did nothing other, but this is all it took. The boy has left Kaminari skipping on air.

As she glances at her reflection in the mirror above her dresser, however, all forms of happiness came to a halt.

"What? I can't go to town like this! Dei, get in here quick!"

Above Kaminari's collar bone and marring the skin of her throat are prominent, bruise-like, marks. They are a gruesome shade of plum, clashing hideously against ivory skin. Along with these are small, red blotches at various places on her neck. The sight of them alone causes Kaminari to blush crimson. Recalling how she received each of them transforms the color into maroon.

Meanwhile, having heard her shouts, Deidara saunters up the stairs and down the hallway. The boy loiters in her doorway a moment later, raising a flaxen brow. Normally this is meant as a gesture of skepticism. This time, however, he wears a smirk. To Kaminari, he seems nothing short of amused. The observation of his teasing smile forces the girl to react in shock.

"Are you  _smiling_?! Why are you smiling?! Look at what you did to my neck!"

Deidara's only response to her remark is a widening smirk. He paces calmly into Kaminari's room to stand beside her. Once at the girl's side, he raises a forefinger to trace the edges of the purple blotches. He stares at them intently, as if viewing a piece of artwork. To Kaminari's utter bafflement, the boy has an aura of pride, as if he'd accomplished something wonderful.

Chuckling, he speaks at last. "These are some big love bites. Especially the one on your throat. I was probably a little rough on that area, un."

As a matter of fact, Deidara  _was_  rough on that area. Kaminari remembers the sensation of his mouth attacking her throat particularly well. As a result, she averts her gaze in embarrassment.

"You were, actually, yes. That isn't the point, though. I need to go to the village to buy eggs and vanilla extract. Not only that, but I wanted to buy some vegetables for dinner tonight. I can't do that with hickies!"

His tone is nothing but teasing. "I don't see why you want to hide the marks I left. I like looking at them, un." The boy gently brushes each mark with his fingers as he continues. "Besides, un. I didn't hear a single complaint from you yesterday."

The blunt statement flusters her. Kaminari couldn't formulate a response if she tried. Admittedly, Deidara's bold kisses came as a surprise, as did his brazen actions upon her neck. She hadn't a clue that he felt that way toward her! Secretly, Kaminari herself had been admiring Deidara for months, but she didn't expect her affection to be reciprocated. It is because of this that, when he started the kisses, the girl didn't stop him. The feel of Deidara's thin, chapped, lips, the heat of his breath, his hands touching her, Kaminari lavished in having him so close.

Thinking back on it, Deidara seemed more eager than she. It was if a cork had popped from buildup of pressure, the blonde bomber exploding with emotion.

Pursing her lips at the thought, Kaminari makes an inquiry despite her discomfort. To her relief, Deidara's prideful smirk softens into an easy smile.

"Why did you kiss me, anyway? I really hope it's because you like me, and not because you were horny." She confesses with an uncomfortable giggle, "I like you, Dei, and a whole lot. Not the way a girl likes her friend, but the way a woman likes her …um…  _lover_."

Cobalt slants glittering like gems, Deidara removes his finger from her neck. He uses their current nearness as an opportunity to wrap his arms around Kaminari's waist and tug her against him. The bomber's chest is pressed against Kaminari's back, his chin resting atop her shoulder. Deidara gives a simple, candid, response a second later.

"We've pretty much been playing house already. Of course I like you like that, un!" Smiling mischievously, he confesses, "I wish you would've said something earlier, un. Or maybe I should've kissed you earlier. It would've saved me the trouble of those  _'discreet'_  wrestling matches in the river."

For a long moment Kaminari grins happily. Dei  _does_  like her! Not only that, but he's holding her! This is such a joyful day!

That, however, is when Deidara's final remark strikes. Grassy eyes widen to the size of globes.

"Hold on. Are you talking about those times we were swimming, and you fondled my breasts and butt?"

The bomber doesn't reply verbally. He merely nods, eyes glittering impishly. That single expression is all it takes for Kaminari to separate from his embrace, the girl pointing an accusatory finger. Humiliation overwhelms her features.

"Oh my gosh! For the love of Iwa! Please tell me that all those times were accidents! You didn't actually touch me there  _ **on purpose**_?!"

Deidara shrugs apologetically. Somehow, his remorse lacks sincerity.

"What can I say, un? I've grown fond of your loud personality, I love your artistic mind, and you enjoy my art as much as I do. That doesn't mean that I don't like your body, too, un." Shooting her a playful wink, he adds, "Your hourglass is  _flawless_. Not to mention that your bra and panties don't leave much to the imagination. What man doesn't like a woman with huge breasts and tiny underwear, un?"

Kaminari reaches for her dresser, throwing her hairbrush at Deidara the moment it is in her grasp. The boy doesn't bother dodging. He allows the object to hit him in the cranium, most likely permitting the livid teen to take revenge.

"Pervert!" she shouts angrily. "You are a pervert!  _ **Pervert**_! I can't believe I let you touch me there thinking it was an accident! When I get my hands on you, I'll beat you up!"

Deidara smirks, not feeling endangered in the slightest. He backs toward the door at her threat.

"Okay. I'll let you beat me up, un. You just have to catch me first!"

With that said, the boy bolts for the exit. Kaminari dashes after him, waving her fist.

"Get back here, pervert! When I'm done with you, you'll regret groping me!"

Kaminari doesn't make it to the village. She spends most of the day chasing Deidara, and when she finally catches him, he easily wards off her attacks. The girl keeps at it, but her efforts are futile. At the end of the day she is passed out on her tatami mat in their attic bedroom from exhaustion.

* * *

Deidara left early this morning. His current mission is assassination and theft in the Land of Fire. He and Sasori are targeting a Feudal Lord, and were instructed by the Akatsuki leader to steal an artifact of some sort. The situation is tricky and must be handled delicately, Deidara said. Because of this, Kaminari's boyfriend won't return for a full two weeks.

Flour coats the front of her crisp, white, apron along with the kitchen counter. She misses Deidara already. Even so, Kaminari doesn't allow this to act as a hindrance. She bakes rapidly, trying to have her vast amount of goods ready by tomorrow. Chouwa's elderly are not patient in terms of muffins, and there are always bills to pay.

Right as Kaminari is amid her task, humming a chipper tune and taking short pauses to finger Deidara's still evident marks, loud knocking is heard. She knows for certain that it isn't Dei. He never knocks; the boy simply enters. Not to mention that the sound comes from her front door while he enters through the back. The very thought of a person standing on her front porch waiting to see her, most likely a person from the village, gives Kaminari nervous shudders. Deidara  _did_  blow up two of Chouwa's most important buildings. Has someone been watching for the flaxen-haired bomber to leave? Now that he's gone, hopefully an angry mob isn't assembling…

The girl continues baking as if the person isn't there, hoping that they will leave after a few minutes. Unfortunately, this isn't the case. The knocking persists, growing more insistent with each passing second. Kaminari cringes, knowing that they aren't going away any time soon. By this point she has a half mind to sneak upstairs and hide in the attic.

That, however, is when a familiar voice yells as loud as humanly possible. Although she isn't happy about the person's identity, the girl is relieved to an extent. At least she knows that there isn't anyone waiting outside with pitchforks and torches.

"Come on, Kaminari! Open the door! I know you're home!"

She was previously scooping batter into the cups of a muffin pan, but at the sound of the voice, she halts. More than anything, Kaminari was expecting to hear anger. Although, this person doesn't sound angry. If anything, their tone is remorseful.

Placing the metal bowl of muffin batter carefully atop the counter, the girl rids herself of her apron and inches toward the living room. She walks using light footsteps and avoids the windows. Even so, she catches sight of the short stature and chocolate-colored eyes of Fuji. Luckily, Fuji doesn't seem to spot her. Frowning in something akin to regret, the woman continues speaking.

"Please, Kaminari? I want to talk to you. I'm not going to say that I'm sorry for not supporting your friendship with that Akatsuki, because I'm not. But I am sorry for shunning you. The Akatsuki jerk was right; about  _everything_. Even if everyone in Chouwa was angry, we shouldn't have treated you the way we did. Ostracizing and attacking you has only driven you closer to that guy, and it was a huge mistake on our part." Pausing, she adds with a sigh, "I can't speak for everyone in this village, or even for my uncle, but I  _can_  speak for myself. I am really,  _truly_ , sorry, Kaminari."

Kaminari's mouth hangs agape. For a lengthy moment, she questions if it is truly Fuji standing at her door. Perhaps it is an alien or a Fuji clone. Of course, it only takes a second for the girl to realize how impossible this is. Considering how the woman has been cold-shouldering her for nearly a year now, Kaminari should feel angry. She shouldn't go to the door at all. She should leave Fuji standing there. Yet, despite all common sense, Kaminari saunters forward.

Fuji's posture stiffens at the sound of her footsteps. Upon reaching the door, Kaminari doesn't swing it open widely for the woman as she used to. She opens it a mere crack, just enough to peek out at her. Fuji doesn't smile at the girl. If anything, her remorseful frown deepens. When Kaminari speaks to her hesitantly, almost fearfully, the woman grimaces.

"You're apologizing, Fuji? I've never heard you say sorry to anyone before. Especially not when it comes to shunning." Gulping, she asks, "It's been almost a year. Why are you on my doorstep now?"

Fuji sighs. "Because I want to be friends again. Even if I think you're stupid for getting so close to that guy, I shouldn't have left you in this big house all by yourself. I didn't realize it until yesterday after that Akatsuki's speech, but isolation must be very lonely for you."

Kaminari gives a small, emotionless, frown. "It hasn't been too lonely. Deidara's here a lot of the time, and when he's not, I have work and my paintings. I've been doing fine."

The girl watches the woman's reaction through the crack in the door. Fuji's eyes immediately shift to concern.

"See, that's why I wanted to reconcile. I also didn't realize this until yesterday, and neither did the rest of the village, but the only person you've had any recent contact with is that Akatsuki. Spending time alone in this house with nobody but him for months on end...it isn't healthy." Nibbling her lower lip anxiously, the woman confesses, "Originally I was hoping that you would get so tired of the isolation that you would apologize to Chouwa and rejoin us. I had no idea that the guy was visiting you so often, and practically living with you to boot. If I'd known earlier how deeply you were getting involved with him, I would've stepped in sooner. I hope you can forgive me."

Much to the short-statured woman's dismay, Kaminari doesn't open the door wider. She narrows the crack by a centimeter. For the first time in Fuji's memory, as well as Kaminari's for that matter, the girl is deeply offended.

"That's a lie. You don't want to be friends with me at all! The only reason you came to my house is to save me from danger that isn't real! Why on Earth are you trying to save me from Dei? He's the only person I've ever met that cares about me!"

Fuji's eyes widen. A second following this, her brow furrows in anger. "How can you say that? He doesn't care about you.  _ **I**_  care about you! If I didn't care, I wouldn't be standing here!"

It is at this point that Kaminari swings the door to her front porch open. Although the girl seems angry more than anything, tears are visibly welling up in her eyes.

"No, Fuji! If you cared about me, you would've been standing there a year ago! That's when the shunning first started and before Dei started coming regularly! I was lonelier then than I've ever been in my entire life, and, where were you? Cold-shouldering me like everyone else!"

Kaminari steps onto porch to point a flour-covered finger into her face as she continues.

"When I was lonely, it wasn't you who painted the attic walls with me while it was raining! It wasn't you who built a fort with me out of blankets! It wasn't you who went swimming with me in the river, gazed at the stars, and showed me how to make food from the Land of Earth! All those times, it was Dei! I love Dei, and he loves me! He likes my art, likes my personality the way it is, and he always comes back when he says he will! That's a lot more than I can say for anyone else."

Fuji's anger dissipates at Kaminari's words, an expression of horrified realization crossing her features. In this moment, it's as if she fully understands the reality of how late she is.

Sudden desperation in her tone, Fuji does her best to plead with the raven-haired girl.

"I'm sorry, Kaminari. I will never be able to tell you enough how sorry I am. I made a huge mistake and left you here all by yourself. You were lonely because of me, and had to turn to that Akatsuki. I understand that." Taking a deep breath, she adds, "But it isn't too late. You can accept my apology, and we can start over. We can be friends again. You can even move in with my grandmother and I so you don't have to live by yourself. With enough effort, my grandmother and I can even smooth things over with the rest of Chouwa. Leave the art and that criminal behind, and come with me back to the village. I swear that we can fix this."

Never has anything more heartfelt left Fuji's lips. Even so, Kaminari's tears increase. They stream down her cheeks in rivers. The entire time she shivers with rage.

" _'Leave my art and my criminal behind'_. You didn't hear a word I said, did you? Stop calling him a criminal and  _'that Akatsuki'_. He's a human being with feelings, and his name is Deidara! And what do you mean leave my art behind? You want me to change everything about myself and become like the rest of the people in Chouwa, right? You should already know that I don't want to do that. I'm an artist, Fuji. I don't conform."

In her anger, Kaminari reaches for the door and begins closing it. The horror written on Fuji's face increases tenfold. Eyes widening, she pleads.

"Wait, Kaminari! Don't shut the door on me! I didn't mean it like that! You're an artist? Bring your paintings! Sure, they're a little strange, but I don't care! And I get it that Deidara's a person. That's why you like him!" Pausing, she adds cautiously, "But even if he is a person, I think you should get away from him? Being around him too much isn't good… He might be having an influence on you…"

Salty liquid is so thick in her eyes that Kaminari can no longer see the woman in front of her. She doesn't know if she has ever felt more misunderstood. Somehow, Fuji trying to feign friendship in an attempt to rescue her is worse than when she was being shunned. It is because of this that Kaminari says one final thing before retreating inside.

"If you really were here because you wanted to be my friend, I would've let you in. But you're not here to be my friend. You're here to separate me from Dei and make me act like everyone else in Chouwa!"

She turns her head to face the floor while closing the door behind her.

"Go back to the other villagers where you belong, Fuji, and don't come back."

The wooden planks shut with a firm  _thud_ , leaving a devastated Fuji loitering on her porch in disbelief. Kaminari never sees it, but the chocolate-eyed woman cries during her trip home.

* * *

A grand total of thirteen days has passed. At the start, Kaminari was uncertain how long she would remain alone for. Considering Fuji's display on her front porch, it seemed more than possible that she might return. Five days followed this assumption, however, and not a sign of the chocolate-eyed woman was seen. It was only after this that Kaminari learned that her cycle of solitude would resume its usual pattern.

Sunlight ignites the sky like summer. Unusual for late September, though Kaminari enjoys the weather nevertheless. She adorns her trademark qipao, hanging damp garments over the clothesline in the back of her house. A gentle breeze passes, ruffling clothing as well as raven locks. Aside from the wind and her own movements, not a sound is heard.

Kaminari would normally be humming a jovial tune to fill the silence. On this day, however, the silence is filled by her thoughts. The girl muses deeply, the same question playing through her mind on repeat. She hadn't asked herself this question until after Fuji came knocking. It seems preposterous in how dangerous it could be. Not to mention that she needs to think of her daddy. Yet, in spite of these blatant truths, she is considering it anyway.

When Deidara comes back, will she leave Chouwa with him?

The Akatsuki leader wants her to move into the northeast branch hideout. He wants to keep her in reach is what Dei claimed. Being an S-rank missing nin and a member of a criminal organization, he shouldn't be living in a village just to be near his girlfriend. Instead, the Akatsuki needs to keep his girlfriend close, in turn, keeping Dei close. It all makes sense to Kaminari.

Frankly, the idea is starting to seem tempting despite its cons. She doesn't have anything left in Chouwa. No friends. No suitors. No family business to inherit. The way things are currently looking, she doesn't even have her daddy tying her to Chouwa. Kaminari has always dreamt of leaving this close-minded village and seeing the world. With Deidara, she has the opportunity. So why isn't Kaminari taking it?

Sighing aloud, the reason hits her. Of course, she has known this reason from the beginning.

No matter what, there is always that fear of her daddy coming back to find her gone. He has been in the Land of Snow caring for orphans, most likely thinking of Kaminari day and night. The last thing such a giving man needs is to come home only to realize that his daughter left with a criminal. There is no doubt that Daddy's heart would break in two!

It is because of this that, no matter how much she wants to leave, Kaminari stays. With all the time that has passed, her father is due to come home soon, anyway. He must miss her. If she left with Dei now, it would be just their luck if they ran into him on the path leading out of the village.

So, due to this single string that keeps her attached, Kaminari won't leave with Deidara when he gets back. She is going to continue staying trapped in Chouwa, doing chores and painting while she waits in desperation for her boyfriend to return. Such a pathetic existence.

A wave of sadness washes over her, the girl wanting to leave Chouwa now more than ever. She doesn't allow herself to cry, though. Holding her tears at bay, she continues pinning damp garments to the clothesline. Then, once finished with this task, the girl will go inside to paint something and maybe make some tea. Such a dreary, depressing, life she lives…

In her state of despair, Kaminari doesn't notice, but a man saunters up Chouwa's single, earthen, trail. The man isn't from the village. Rather than coming from a familiar direction, he comes from the unfamiliar direction of the forest beyond. He is tall, has sand-colored hair and onyx eyes, and totes a large satchel. The man walks with a slouch, as if tired from a long journey. Upon spotting Kaminari's house, however, he pauses. Doing a double-take, the mysterious traveler reaches inside of the satchel to remove a small envelope. He glances at the envelope and at the house once more. Following this action, the sandy-haired man strays from the path to wade through the grasses.

Kaminari tosses article after article of clothing over the clothesline, trying to free herself from turbulent thoughts as well as withholding sobs. The man is a scant two meters away from her by now, but the girl still doesn't notice. When he finally comes to her attention, it is because he calls loudly. He has a gruff voice, resembling that of a smoker.

"Excuse me, is your name  _Kaminari_? You wouldn't happen to be Kenji's daughter?"

The girl practically leaps as high as the sky at the sound of the voice. Upon turning around to see the man holding an envelope, however, she calms. Did he just say Kenji? That's her daddy! Grassy orbs immediately brim with hope. He sent a letter! Maybe he's telling her why he's so late, and that he'll be home soon! Who knows? Maybe Daddy will be here in a few days!

Grinning widely, Kaminari nods eagerly. "Yes! I'm Kaminari! Kenji's my daddy! Did he send me something?"

The man responds with a simple, firm, nod. "Not much. Just a note. A pretty brief note based on the thickness of this envelope. Don't get your hopes up, kid."

He tosses it in her direction, the raven-haired teen catching it easily. As soon as it's in her grasp, he saunters back toward the path with a farewell salute.

"Good luck, kid. With Kenji as your dad, you need it."

Kaminari doesn't hear a word out of the man's mouth, neither does she notice the salute. She is already tearing into the envelope, the laundry long forgotten.

"He's on his way back, isn't he?" she says to herself. "He has to be!"

The instant she starts reading, however, Kaminari's beaming grin is replaced by a frown. Saying that her facial expression reflects sadness would be a vast understatement. A more proper description would be that she appears shattered by devastation.

_Kaminari,_

_I ran into unexpected trouble. An illness is spreading through the orphanage, and my medical skills are needed. Sorry I'm late. It could take three more months. Maybe four. Love you._

_Daddy_

The girl doesn't finish hanging laundry on the clothesline. Kaminari retreats to the attic, stumbling multiple times on the journey there with her vision blurred by tears. Never has she missed Deidara more. If only he was here so that he could hold her.

* * *

Traveling down the dirt path to Chouwa is odd today. It isn't anything of large significance that strikes Deidara this way. Rather, it is something trivial that sticks out; he runs into another traveler.

A short time after separating from Sasori at the fork in the woods, Deidara meets him. A tall, sandy-haired, man carrying a satchel. Considering how this earthen trail leads to an insignificant village like Chouwa, running into other travelers in and of itself is rare. This man, however, strikes Deidara as particularly strange.

Originally, the boy's goal is to walk past him without saying a word. Besides the occasional  _"hello"_  or  _"good afternoon"_ , passersby don't say much to each other, after all. The sandy-haired man, on the other hand, stops Deidara to make a blunt confession. What exactly he's talking about, the blonde doesn't know. As for the traveler, he seems perfectly aware of Deidara's oblivion. If anything, it is as if he is trying to get a secret off his chest to an unknowing stranger.

"There are some people in this world that I feel far too much heartache for. That daughter of Kenji's is one of them. That man needs a swift kick in the groin."

Under normal circumstances Deidara would have scowled at the man and shoved past him, saying that he doesn't care about his problems. Yet, he doesn't do this. The man's satchel immediately catches Deidara's attention. It isn't made from thin, flimsy, material, neither does it look like a personal belonging. It is thick and durable, as if crafted specifically for traveling. Along with this, it bears a red and white insignia with the rough image of a camellia blossom; a village emblem of some sort.

An instant is all it takes for the blonde-haired Akatsuki to place him as a mail carrier. Upon closer observation, he recognizes the insignia as belonging to a bustling river town known as  _"Giman"_. He and Sasori have passed through Giman on multiple occasions, now that Deidara thinks about it. It is a peaceful settlement and is only a two-day trip from Chouwa.

As he processes this information, the boy immediately raises a brow. What is a mail carrier from Giman doing in an isolated village like Chouwa? Chouwa seems like an odd place to be delivering mail…

Raising a brow, Deidara makes this inquiry.

"That emblem. You're not from too far away. You're from Giman, un." Cobalt slants narrowing into unconscious daggers, he asks, "A little far from home, un. What are you doing in a backwoods settlement like Chouwa?"

The mail carrier scoffs, his anger undiluted. "We could ask Kenji's daughter that same question. She doesn't belong here anymore than we do. She should be in Giman just like her brother and sister. It isn't fair what that snake of a dad is putting her through."

For a long moment, Deidara is puzzled by the rant. Apparently the mail carrier delivered a message to somebody's daughter; that much is obvious. Whoever her father is, it is also plain that this man loathes him. This Kenji he speaks of must not be the best of parents…

It is here, however, that the epiphany strikes.  _Kenji_.  _Daughter_.  _Snake of a dad_. The boy's eyes make an immediate transformation from narrowed daggers to orbs of shock.

"Kaminari."

When that single word leaves his mouth, the mail carrier releases harsh guffaws.

"Wow. You must frequent Chouwa a lot more often than I do, stranger. You know exactly who I'm talking about!" Snarling, he says, "Do you want to know a secret? I can't tell this to Kenji's daughter. That lying backstabber has me sworn to secrecy. He never said that I couldn't tell a random person I met on the trail, though."

A mere second is what it takes for Deidara to nod. "Tell me what you know. I don't know a thing about Kaminari's father, but I definitely want to now, un."

Smirking in a twisted combination of rage and pleasure, he shouts to the top of his lungs at Deidara's confirmation. It's as if he wants the entire world to hear.

"Kenji? He has been lying to his kid for the past eight years! Traveling the shinobi nations helping people? To heck with that! The man has been living in Giman for over half a decade! He has a wife and two other children! After his first wife died, he left the kid alone to rot! His wife knows about Kaminari, too, but guess what? She doesn't care!" The mail carrier releases a strained laugh that borders on maniacal. "Humanity is sick, isn't it? You're an Akatsuki, and I bet you have more kindness in your heart than those two!"

An endless minute passes, neither Deidara nor the man from Giman moving. The man stares at Deidara, waiting patiently for a reaction. Meanwhile, the blonde bomber stares ahead with wide, livid, eyes. In his fifteen years of existence, never has he felt his blood boil as it does in this moment. Crafting a flurry of clay birds, the boy releases them into the distant forest. A second later, he ignites them with an echoing  _"Katsu!"_. A section of trees the size of a meteorite is gone. Turning to the mail carrier, Deidara pulls him closer by the collar of his shirt. As a fully-grown man, the mail carrier is far stronger than the teen. Yet, this scarcely matters. It's as if the boy's strength has tripled.

"You'd better not be lying to me! If you would make up a lie this sick, then you're facing same fate as those trees over there, un!"

Appearing far more than apprehensive, he pleads for his life. "No! I'm not lying! I swear! Kenji lives a short distance away from here in Giman! He's a medic at the hospital there! I see him every day I'm in town, either exiting the hospital or with his family!"

Deidara tightens his grip, scowling viciously. "Kaminari's his family! He should be with her, un!"

"Hey, don't blame me! I feel the same way! Just please don't kill me! I have a wife and five kids to support!"

The boy's grimace deepens. "Don't worry. I won't kill you, un. You're too useful an asset." Cobalt eyes sharper than shards of glass, he demands, "Give me exact directions to Kenji's house, un! Tell me what he looks like and his position at the hospital! I want to know  _everything_!"


	9. Chapter Nine

_Disclaimer: I do not own Naruto._

* * *

**Chapter Nine**

_Three Days Later_

_Giman_

A middle-aged man approximately forty-five years of age. Average height, slender build, and stubble adorning his chin. He has the same grass-colored eyes as his daughter, although they are slanted rather than wide. As for his hair, it is a graying shade of coffee brown. The mail carrier the boy met on the trail told him all these things vaguely. It is only since Deidara has started watching the man that he fills in the more intricate details.

Stealth is never Deidara's preferred course of action. When the blonde bomber handles a situation, he prefers doing it artistically. A large-scale explosion that ignites entire villages, where he can hover overhead atop his clay bird and claim himself as the creator. No matter the battle, this is how Deidara enjoys fighting. It is only now that Deidara has willingly shoved his art aside to take a different approach; hiding on rooftops and inside alleyways, quietly tailing Kaminari's father. He has been tailing him since yesterday, and with each passing hour, the boy's anger grows to boiling heights.

Yesterday afternoon, he watched Kenji shop for groceries at Giman's market. Shopping alongside him was a stunning blonde-haired woman with wide, blue, eyes. Holding the woman's hand was a little brown-haired girl approximately five years of age, a happy grin painting her features. Then, beside Kenji helping with the shopping bags, was a green-eyed boy around seven years old. The entire time they were buying their produce, the quartet was smiling and laughing joyfully. What Kenji had said, Deidara isn't certain, but the five-year-old had responded with  _"You're silly, Daddy!"_.

Deidara had watched the entire scene from an alleyway. The sight made him scowl.

Yesterday evening, he'd watched the family eat a hearty meal of mixed rice and steamed vegetables. The dining room window was open. The flaxen-haired boy was hiding in a grove of bushes a short distance away from their house. He could see and hear everything clearly.

"You made good rice, Mommy! This is even better than last time!"

The blonde woman smiled at her little boy, who was eagerly chowing down. Kenji smiled as well. Upon hearing the comment, he stood from his seat and rounded the table so that he was behind his wife. He hugged her around the shoulders and kissed her boldly on the cheek.

"Your mother cooks tasty food, doesn't she, Akio? You kids had better be thankful for her. Not all children are as lucky as the two of you."

Deidara's fists clenched from his hiding place, as did his jaw. In that moment, he wanted nothing more than to jump through the open window and destroy them all.

Earlier today, Kenji and his wife took their children to the park. The two kids were making sculptures in the sandbox, playing tag, sliding down the slides, and eventually, were being pushed on the swings by their parents. Never had Deidara seen happier children. More joyful than the children were Kenji and his wife, who were watching their offspring in contentment. As they pushed them higher on the swings, contentment shifted to wide, beaming, grins.

"You push me high, Daddy! I'm flying!" shouted the small girl.

"Don't fly too high," Kenji had responded with chuckles. "You'll end up in outer space and we'll never be able to get you back!"

That time Deidara didn't hide his presence. He stood directly at the playground's center, only five meters away from the family. Shrouded by his Akatsuki cloak and tasseled straw hat, he loitered behind the sandbox. In a display of undiluted rage, Deidara extended his foot to kick over a sand castle created by Kaminari's unknowing siblings. He glared at them with concealed, cobalt, daggers as their work of art toppled into a shapeless heap. To Deidara's perverse pleasure, Kenji and his wife spotted him. They gawked at the Akatsuki with wide, fearful, eyes.

"Daddy!" cried the little boy. "The man knocked over my castle!"

Kenji didn't say a word in response, neither did the blonde woman. They continued staring nervously, uncertain of who this cloaked man was or why his demeanor was so livid.

Head pointed directly at Kenji, Deidara responded harshly.

"That sand castle is the least of your problems, un."

With that, Deidara left the playground. Once he vanished, the parents and the children immediately calmed. Letting their guard down was a mistake on their part. Since the incident, Deidara hasn't let them out of his sight.

* * *

"Bye, honey. Sorry I'm working so late tonight. They need me for the night shift at the hospital."

Kenji descends the stairs of his front porch, slanted green eyes creased with disappointment. The man's wife stands in the doorway, appearing equally disappointed. Even so, she manages a smile.

"Don't worry about it, dumpling. We'll miss you at dinner, but the children and I will be fine."

He returns her smile. "Okay. I'll see you and the kids tomorrow morning. Love you."

"Love you, too, dumpling! Have a good night at work!"

With that said, Kenji leaves the house behind and makes his way down the dirt road to the hospital. Sitting atop the roof of his house, patiently molding small birds from clay, is Deidara. He watches Kenji's persona until it makes a right down another street and vanishes. Once the man is out of sight, Deidara still doesn't move. He spends roughly ten minutes crafting the same bird, looking to perfect it. Only after the clay sculpture is smooth without a single wrinkle does he leap down from the roof. Deidara lands soundlessly on the porch. Clay bird in hand, he saunters toward the porch's single window. He peers in at an expansive sitting room, tatami mats, cushions, and low tables decorating it. On a shelf toward the back of the room are framed photographs along with a large, hardcover, book.

Kenji's wife and children are not in the sitting room. They are elsewhere.

Not wanting to wait any longer, Deidara saunters toward the wooden door and kicks it off its hinges. A single strike is all it takes. The golden-haired Akatsuki leaps through the entranceway and into the sitting room. The first thing he does is meander in the direction of the shelf. Upon nearing it, the boy can make out the photographs as wedding portraits. Kenji's wife is wearing an elaborate, ostentatious, yukata that is doubtlessly very costly. Her lips are stained crimson, and her eyeshadow is applied shamelessly. The woman appears more like a fashion model than a bride. As for Kenji, he wears a simple yet tasteful masculine kimono. He grins happily while his wife gives something akin to a polite, red carpet, smile.

Despite being taken from different angles, each photograph looks the same to Deidara. A shallow, needy, man marrying a fashion model to achieve some boyhood dream.

He scoffs harshly. "What a pathetic fool, un."

Knowing that he will need solid evidence upon returning to Chouwa, the boy reaches for the picture frames and busts several of them. Once rid of the glass, he frees three of the photographs and tucks them inside his Akatsuki cloak. As soon as this is finished, the boy moves on to the hardcover book. Upon opening it, it is discovered to be a picture album. Pictures from Kenji's wedding reception of extravagant decorations and expensive sake, photos of their honeymoon in a tropical location at a luxurious hotel, pictures of his wife during both pregnancies, their entire lives are in here. Not to mention birthdays, anniversaries, picnics with friends, family vacations, not a detail is missed.

Deidara isn't as little as halfway through the album before tucking it inside his cloak along with their wedding portraits.

After making sure that his collection of evidence is secure, Deidara exits the sitting room through an archway toward the back. Unsurprisingly, the sitting room's exit also acts as the entryway to the home's dining room. From the outside it isn't so noticeable, but from the inside, it stares him in the face begging for attention. Dangling above the dining room table is a crystal chandelier, the gems reflecting the light of the setting sun. The legs of the cherry wood table have been carved with intricate patterns, as have the arms of the chairs. In a curio cabinet against the wall is some of the best china seen in the shinobi nations. Blue and white jade-patterned plates and crystal goblets, small touches of gold on each of them.

The boy can't withhold a snort. "Marriage hasn't mellowed his trophy wife any, has it, un?"

He leaves the dining room behind without a second thought. There is another archway in a distant corner, leading to the kitchen. Unlike the previous two rooms, the kitchen isn't empty. Standing in front of the stovetop, putting together a steaming pot of ramen, is Kenji's wife. Her flawlessly combed tresses hang down her back prettily, a crisp white apron covering the front of her. Upon spotting her attire, Deidara understands why she wears the apron. It would be a shame to stain such a beautiful, sunset orange, qipao with bright yellow trim.

Removing a kunai from his weapons' holster, Deidara throws it her way with lethal precision. If he'd been aiming for the back of her head, there isn't the slightest doubt that the woman would be dead. Lucky for her, he doesn't aim for a place that's fatal. The kunai embeds itself into her right shoulder. So deep is the blade the only thing left is the hilt, the rest buried beneath blood and flesh. Kenji's wife releases a banshee-like screech, dropping the wooden spoon she'd been holding.

Snarling in anger, Deidara doesn't give the woman a chance to process what is happening. He leaps over to her with a chakra-infused jump, grabbing the front of the orange qipao and shoving her against the kitchen counter. Makeup-coated eyes are horrified as they lock onto the blonde Akatsuki's.

"This is a fancy house you have, un. So much fancy furniture and expensive clothes. You had a nice wedding, too, un. You and Kaminari's dad have all the money in the world, yet you still felt the need to desert Kaminari in Chouwa! Spoiled little rich whore! You're lucky I don't kill you now, un!"

Deidara tosses the woman to the other side of the kitchen in a fit of rage. She hits the wall with an echoing thud, landing in a heap on the floor. Her terror doubles as Deidara stomps closer, as does the boy's relentless anger.

"Do you have any idea what Kaminari is going through in that backwoods village? She's suffering! You left a teenage girl alone in some paranoid, hick, town to be shunned, un! How does that make you feel, selfish whore?!"

The woman shudders as though it is winter, doubtlessly terrified.

"Oh my goodness! You're that creep from the park! Who are you? What are you doing in my house?! How do you know about Kenji's throwaway child?!"

An instant is what it takes for the boy's eyes to darken. He lifts the woman up by the front of the qipao at that final remark, slapping her harshly across the face.

" _'Throwaway child'_?! Kaminari isn't some used up object that you can throw away, un! She's a person, she has feelings, and she is in more pain than a gold-digger like you could ever fathom!"

Deidara snarls spitefully, cobalt slants filled with more hate than he has felt before. The boy locks eyes with her once more, loathing intensifying.

"Your part of the reason my girlfriend is hurting. True, your husband is most of the reason, un. You did have a role, though, so I'm going to make you pay."

In the corner of the kitchen next to a nearby window is an open closet. As soon as he sees it, Deidara drags Kenji's wife in that direction by the roots of her hair. Upon reaching the closet, the boy tosses the woman inside and slams the door. Small clay spiders are planted along the cracks, keeping it firmly shut. She shouts at him, begging and pleading to be let out as well as pleading for the safety of the children. Deidara doesn't listen, though. He walks away.

Kenji's children are playing safely in the upstairs playroom. It is lavishly decorated and contains every toy that money can conjure. Deidara gently closes the door behind them and seals it prior to exiting the house.

Numerous clay birds are left in the dining room on his way outside.

It is only after he is twenty-seven rooftops away that Deidara says the word.

_"Katsu."_

The explosion can be heard from kilometers around.

* * *

Kenji's grass green slants are wide with an impossible flurry of emotions. Sadness, anger, disbelief, grief. All these feelings melt together in an indecipherable mound of turmoil.

A crowd has gathered behind yellow tape, everyone staring at where the highly esteemed medic's house once stood. All that remains is a pile of ashes and charred debris. Tears stream down his cheeks as friends and neighbors murmur amongst themselves in alarm.

"How did this happen?!"

"Must've been a strong gas leak to do this much damage!"

"Rini and the kids weren't inside, were they?!"

"Poor Kenji! He had such a wonderful family."

The owner of the charred plot of land stands at the back of the crowd, unable to get any nearer due to the throng's thickness. Even so, he sees everything clearly. His house is gone, and by the looks of things, so are his wife and children.

"I don't understand," Kenji whispers through tears. "Why did this happen to my family?"

Much to the man's astonishment, someone answers the question. Kenji's posture stiffens fearfully as a result. The person speaks from behind him. Undiluted hatred echoes in their tone.

"They're not your family anymore. Your family is all by herself being shunned in a closed-minded, backwoods, village, un." Chuckling darkly, he adds, "But not for long. I'm going to take her away from you, too. That way, when you finally go back to Chouwa, you will be sitting all alone in that big, dusty, house just like Kaminari." Giving one final chuckle, he adds, "She is too good for a lowlife like you, un. After how long you've been lying to Kaminari, you don't deserve her."

Kenji turns around to see the person who spoke to him. That voice sounded familiar. If he had to place it, he would say that it was that strange man from the park earlier.

Unfortunately, by the time Kenji is facing in the person's direction, he is already gone.

* * *

_Two Days Later_

_Chouwa_

Racks of muffins, cookies, and sweet gyoza flood Kaminari's countertops. Ever since Deidara destroyed the candy shop on the day he saw her get egged, Kaminari has had this problem. She has been getting overloaded with orders for sweets. This is so much a problem that the girl has decided to quit making candles. There won't be enough time for baking, otherwise.

Kaminari lines every wicker basket she could find with cloth, arranging muffins, dango, and cookies tastefully. Her dessert baskets look cute, if she does say so herself. Aside from this, the activity acts as a welcome distraction. Not only is Daddy trapped in the Land of Snow for four more months, but Dei is four days late for his deadline. Daddy has been late plenty of times, but never Deidara. Admittedly, it worries Kaminari. Hopefully he didn't get hurt during his mission. Every time he goes out on a mission, she can't help but worry.

Shoving thoughts of her father and boyfriend aside, Kaminari shifts her focus back to the baskets. Fuji's grandmother wanted ten muffins, and this basket only fits eight. Maybe if she rearranges a few of them, the other two can fit in somewhere…

Unfortunately, the girl never gets the chance to find a solution to this minimal complication. Without warning, the door leading to her back porch swings open. Kaminari jumps at the sounds of rough footsteps and squeaking hinges, immediately whipping around to face the back entryway. Loitering just inside the door is none other than her elusive boyfriend. For a moment Kaminari smiles. Upon seeing the scowl that paints his face, however, her smile vanishes.

Deidara has come back scowling from missions before, but this was always because he was unhappy with Sasori. For some reason, the expression seems much more severe this time. Kaminari is a tad fearful, honestly. Deidara's cobalt slants burn with a toxic combination of fury and loathing.

When the boy stomps deeper into the room, Kaminari backs toward the counter nervously.

"Dei? What's wrong? Did something bad happen during your mission?"

He doesn't get any closer. The boy freezes beside the kitchen table to dig beneath his Akatsuki cloak. A second is what it takes for him to pull out a large, hard-covered, book along with several pieces of thick parchment. Deidara flops them down on the table, eyes locking with Kaminari's from halfway across the room. The negative emotions trapped within his gaze intensify.

"This isn't about my mission, un. This is about your father. The man is liar, Kaminari! He has been lying to you for the past eight years! He isn't who he says he is!"

Kaminari's eyes immediately widen at the mention of her daddy. Dei has never even broached the subject of Daddy before, so for him to show up at her house on a whim and start accusing him is dumbfounding! She doesn't know whether to feel hurt, angry, or sad.

"What? How can you say that? You've never met my daddy! Even if you did, Daddy would never lie to me! He travels the shinobi nations helping people."

Deidara gives a harsh laugh; one that sounds livid more than humorous.

"Is that the load of crap he's been feeding you? Aside from tropical vacations and his honeymoon, he hasn't been traveling anywhere, un! Your dad has been living in Giman for over half a decade! He has a trophy wife, a five-year-old daughter, a seven-year-old son, and a butt-load of cash, un! While he's been living the good life, he left his own daughter in backwater Chouwa to rot!"

Before Kaminari has a chance to gain control, her eyes brim with liquid. She shakes her head at Deidara, voice fuming and disbelieving.

"No! Don't lie to me like that, Dei! Daddy's traveling the world helping the less fortunate. He must be. Giman's only a two-day trip from here. He would never live that close to me and visit almost never! He would never desert me for another family! It's impossible!"

It is here that Deidara picks up a piece of parchment from the kitchen table. The boy's hatred-filled demeanor remains. Even so, a new emotion appears. Kaminari immediately recognizes it as pain. As he saunters closer, pain increases. His tone of voice is far quieter than before.

"You think I'm making this up? I ran into a mail carrier on the path to Chouwa five days ago, un. He'd delivered a message to a daughter from a father named  _'Kenji'_ , and he wasn't happy about it. That mail carrier called Kenji a snake. He said that he'd been living in Giman with two kids and a wife while deserting his other kid." Deidara holds the parchment out to her, sighing deeply. "I gave the mail carrier your name, and he said it was you he'd delivered the message to. After that, I took a detour to Giman to investigate. I tracked Kenji down, and I stole a few things, un. I thought you deserved to see them."

Kaminari gapes at Deidara flabbergasted, shaking her head in a gentle  _"no"_  fashion.

"How do you know my daddy's name? I never told you that! You shouldn't know about the message, either! A mail carrier would never tell all of that to a stranger!"

Deidara sighs once more, sounding aggrieved as much as frustrated. "Don't deny it, Kaminari. Just look at the evidence, un."

The parchment is forcefully shoved into Kaminari's hand. Before she can stop herself, she looks at it. It is instantly discovered to be a photograph. Upon viewing the photograph, the breath is sucked from Kaminari's lungs.

She sees a younger version of her daddy where he has much less gray in his hair. The face is unmistakably her father's. Kaminari would recognize him anywhere. He is wearing his special, blue, wedding kimono; it is the same one he wore in an aged wedding picture where he married her mother. Only, the woman beside him isn't Kaminari's mother. This woman is tall and very beautiful, like a famous person. Her yukata is royal blue with patterns of silver and gold, expensive hair pieces and jewelry also decorating her. The blonde lady doesn't appear at all like a loving wife. She seems vain to Kaminari.

Three seconds of observation is all it takes for Kaminari's knees to buckle.

"Oh. My. Gosh. Sweet Kami. Dei… Where did you get this? This is my daddy. With… With a…"

She never finishes her sentence. Kaminari hits the kitchen floor. Luckily, Deidara is there to catch her. The girl is reduced to heap of sobs and shudders.

"I know," he tells her with a sad frown. "I tried telling you, un."

It takes twenty minutes until Kaminari regains the ability to speak. When she finally says something, she shocks herself as much as Deidara.

"There's more on the table, right? I want to see them all."

Deidara nods as he releases his girlfriend to stand up. "I'll bring them over, un."

They sit on the kitchen floor for over an hour. Kaminari looks over each of her daddy's wedding pictures five times and flips through the photo album twice. With each additional viewing, her tears come harder. In some pictures, her daddy and that vain woman are on vacation. In others, she is pregnant. Some are from shortly after giving birth, that woman and Kaminari's daddy smiling and cuddling their new babies. The photographs that bother Kaminari the most, however, are the ones where her daddy is with that woman and their two kids, beaming like the sun.

He looks happy in those pictures. Happier than he ever was with her. The most he would spare for Kaminari were half-hearted, pasted on, smiles. The thought that she'd made him so unhappy that he would have other children as a replacement shatters the girl's heart to pieces.

At some point Deidara tears the wedding pictures and the photo album away from her. Where he puts them, she doesn't know. All Kaminari knows is that Deidara thinks she has had enough. When Deidara returns, he scoops her up from the kitchen floor. The boy carries her bridal style.

"Do you want me to take you to your room, un?"

Kaminari immediately shakes her head. The last thing she wants is to be left alone.

"No. Take me to the attic, if you can manage it. If you can't, I can climb up on my own."

For the first time that day, Deidara smirks. This alone works to comfort her.

"You're forgetting that I'm a shinobi. I can get you up there, un."

At first, Kaminari doubts this. Much to her surprise, however, he manages it. The boy explains that he can use chakra to hold onto the shelves using his feet, although the concept goes right over Kaminari's head in her sorrowful state.

Once in the attic, he sits her down on the window seat. Deidara tries standing afterward, but Kaminari tugs him closer. The boy seems confused. Once Kaminari explains, however, he smirks.

"Don't let go of me, Dei. I want you stay." Cheeks coloring, she adds, "…and…I want you to kiss me…"

His smirk widens. Though it has a bit of a teasing edge, it is also sincere.

"You're certainly eager. Last time must have left you wanting more, un." Smirk softening to a smile, he continues, "Tell me if I'm being too rough or if you want me to stop, un."

With that said, Deidara lowers back down onto the window seat. Using one arm to suspend himself above her and the other to grasp the side of her face, the boy pulls Kaminari into a gentle kiss. Kaminari wraps both of her arms around his torso, returning his kiss sweetly. Soft kisses eventually turn rough, and sweet kisses passionate. As this happens, Kaminari doesn't stop him. The girl doesn't hesitate in the slightest.

Deidara picks Kaminari up, the girl's legs hooked around his waist and her fingers buried in his hair. They don't move far. The boy transfers their bodies less than a meter away to his tatami mat. For a moment Kaminari is nervous. Fortunately, anxiety doesn't last. Clothes fly and undergarments are peeled away, rough, passionate, kisses persisting. A sudden burst of pain surprises Kaminari, but this is short lived. Deidara moves slowly and thoughtfully, smiling kindly through kisses.

"Am I hurting you, un?"

His tone is one of concern. Meanwhile, Kaminari's is one that sounds consoled.

"No, Dei. I don't hurt anymore. This is perfect."

* * *

"Are you sure you're okay? There's blood on the sheets, and you said you're sore, un."

Kaminari never realized how close two human beings can be. Her precious area is sore, as is her neck from more of Deidara's over-excited love bites, but the girl wouldn't have it any other way. The memories are still fresh, and because of this, she busily stores them into her long-term memory. Deidara's gentle touches, his rough touches, and the eager ones.

Smiling happily, Kaminari snuggles closer to Deidara with their limbs entangled. Taking this as an answer to his question, Dei returns the smile with a smirk. He wraps his arms around her as a result, pulling her bare body against his in a lover's embrace.

Giggling, she replies verbally. "I'm sore because I've never done that before. When we did it you tore… _something_. I'm not sure what it was, but I think it was a one-time thing. Next time I'm sure I'll be okay."

She doesn't miss how his cobalt slants light up at the words  _"next time"_. Along with this, he grins in manner that is both proud and flattered.

"Next time, huh? I'll take that as a compliment. I guess you liked it, un." Smile faltering, the boy blushes profusely. "Considering my own lack of experience, I wasn't sure, un…"

Eyes widening in surprise, she gives Deidara a look.

"You, too? But, Dei, you're such a cutie! I thought for sure you would've done it before."

His blush intensifies, though his smirk returns.

"This is really a good day for my self-esteem, un." Pausing, his smile falters once more. "Why don't we make this a good day for both our self-esteems and leave Chouwa? I know I said the decision is yours, but I take it back, un. I want you out of this place. Chouwa is nothing but a town of liars and hypocrites. You don't belong here, Kaminari."

Neither adolescent realizes it, but as they sit in their attic bedroom conversing in their state of nudity, another person enters the house. The man's graying hair is askew and he has dark circles beneath grass green eyes. It's as if he hasn't slept a wink in days, his only focus reaching this large, lonely, house. He ascends the stairs of the back porch and flings the door open desperately, his eyes wide and searching. The kitchen is littered by a variety of baked goods and wicker baskets, but the girl that lives here is nowhere in sight.

Turning frantic, the man dashes toward the living room. This room is also empty, as is the stairwell. Horrified by now, he sprints to the second floor. The door of the bathroom is open, immediately revealing it to be vacant. Kaminari's bedroom is also void, as is his own and all the guestrooms. Growing more desperate by the second, the man rushes to the end of the hallway as a last resort. That final closet serves as a stairway to the attic, right? Maybe his daughter is in the attic.

When Kenji rushes in the direction of the closet to find the door cracked open, his question is immediately answered. This isn't only because of the gap in the entryway, but because on the floor in front of him is a garment. It is in a haphazard heap, as if it fell from above. Aside from this, the piece of clothing is not Kaminari's. The man nudges it with his foot, discovering it to be a masculine shirt crafted from shinobi netting.

Fear overwhelms his features. That man who killed his family in Giman. He must be a ninja. Right now, it seems that this same man is with his daughter doing heaven knows what to her.

Entering a mode of panic, he jumps onto the shelves and begins ascending them. The panel meant to cover the attic entrance is removed, confirming his most frightening beliefs.

Kenji shouts loud enough to wake the dead. "Kaminari?! Are you up there?!  _ **Kaminari**_!"

Meanwhile, said girl is snuggling with her boyfriend beneath the sheets. Nodding eagerly, she is fully prepared to answer Deidara's question in the positive. She will absolutely leave Chouwa with him! As sad as it is, there is nothing holding her back anymore. Why wouldn't she leave this village behind?

That, however, is when Kenji's hysterical cries reaches them both. Kaminari's eyes widen to the size of saucers with shock. Deidara, on the other hand, doesn't appear nearly as surprised. He scowls in a warped and enraged manner, as if he has been waiting for this moment.

Sitting up, Kaminari pulls the sheets tightly against herself in attempt to cover her bosom. In the meantime, Deidara stands to his feet and rapidly tugs on his pants. The instant the boy is covered, he leaps between the attic entrance and his girlfriend. The thin material barely manages to act as a covering, her grass green eyes widening farther.

"Oh gosh! My daddy! What is he doing here? How are we going to get out of Chouwa now?!"

Turning, he eyes Kaminari with a slight glare. "We're leaving Chouwa the same way we were going to before. We leave this house and walk out of the village, un. Your dad has been lying to you for years! Are you really going to let him separate you from me?"

Tears well up at the harsh reminder of reality. "Of course not, Dei! He chose another family and abandon me!" Frowning, she adds bluntly, "But I'm naked and you're mostly naked. He'll know what we did today…"

His glare transforms into a smirk. "So what if he does? Don't let your father shame you. Why should you feel ashamed because you made art with your boyfriend, un?"

Kaminari's face reddens at the comparison of such an intimate act to art, though she hasn't any time to comment on it. Her father, a man who she hasn't seen in nearly a year, pulls himself from the final shelf of the closet and into the attic. That first moment where she sees his face is an endless one. His slanted green eyes, graying coffee brown stubble, thinning hair, medium-sized stature, all of it seems so familiar. Yet, for the first time in Kaminari's life, her daddy seems like a stranger. This isn't the kind man who travels the shinobi nations helping orphans and teaching the illiterate to read. He doesn't rebuild houses from floods or raise money for the poor.

Her daddy has been living a short, two-day, trip away from Chouwa for the past eight years with a wife and two children. Two children who are better than her and make Daddy smile. In those pictures, they made Daddy smile more than she ever could.

The tears welling in Kaminari's eyes trail down her cheeks as their eyes meet. Kaminari expects that the first thing her father will notice is Deidara. However, this isn't the case. Kenji's gaze lands on his daughter, astonished eyes taking in her form. In the meantime, Kaminari glowers at him. Until now, the girl can't ever remember glowering at her daddy.

"Kaminari," he says aloud. "You're alive!"

Her grimace deepens at the statement, salty droplets coming harder. "Yes. I'm alive, Daddy. I've been all alone for the past ten months, but somehow I've kept myself alive. Now get out! Go home to your  _real_  family in Giman! Be with your wife and your  _ **good**_  kids!"

Kenji's face immediately pales. Both at the mention of his family in Giman, and the realization that his daughter is sitting unclothed on a tatami mat. Raising his head by several centimeters, it's as if he notices Deidara for the first time. The boy's hair is horribly askew, and aside from a wrinkled pair of navy pants, he is every bit as bare as Kaminari. An instant is all it takes for alarm to fill his features, the man shouting at his daughter fearfully.

"Kaminari, put on some clothes and get away from that kid! Don't trust him! He's a maniac! The kid is insane! If you don't get away from him now, he'll kill us both!"

Wrapping the sheet around herself like a sleeveless gown, Kaminari immediately leaps to her feet. Grass-colored eyes are narrowed irately.

"A maniac?! Deidara is my boyfriend, and he loves me!  _You're_  the maniac! You've been leaving me in this house by myself for months from the time I was seven years old! I was already hurt by it, but then Dei comes home with a photo album and your wedding pictures! You had a whole other family without telling me. A  _ **better**_  family! And you were so ashamed of me that you never let me come to Giman with you to live there! You left me alone in Chouwa!" Tears so thick that she can barely see, she adds, "And now you expect me to get away from Dei? You're sick, Daddy!  _Sick_!"

Kenji pales farther, finally understanding the depths of the situation. He looks at Deidara once more. The flaxen-haired boy appears every bit as angry as Kaminari. In fact, his anger is possibly thrice that of hers. Why? Because this boy, the maniac that killed his family, is his daughter's  _boyfriend_.

Realization lights up his features like the afternoon sun. It wasn't a random attack. When he murdered Kenji's wife and children, he was out for revenge. The only reason the boy did this was as some warped form of vengeance on Kaminari's behalf.

Suddenly, Kenji realizes that this insane boy could kill him as easily as he'd killed the rest of his family. If something happens where he tires of Kaminari, he could do the same to her.

Panic quadrupling, he pleads with his daughter. "Kaminari, you don't understand! That boy doesn't love you! He's insane! He's a psychopathic murderer! You think having sex with him is the same thing as love? It's not! He is willing to kill for you! None of this is love! It's obsession!"

Kaminari no longer feels sad. The only thing left is rage. More than anything, she wants to tell her daddy exactly what she thinks. Of course, before she gets the chance, Deidara does it. Somehow, he shares her exact thoughts.

"You're giving my girlfriend a lecture about love? You're one to talk. I saw your house, your wedding pictures, and I met your wife, un. She was a shallow little rich whore. Don't tell me that you honestly loved that woman. You wanted a trophy wife that would make you look good to the rest of Giman and that was fun in bed, and that's what you got." Scoffing, he adds harshly, "It's interesting how you haven't even admitted to Kaminari that you've been living in Giman with another family, un. Afraid to confirm that all of the evidence I brought back was real?"

Kenji's fretful demeanor never vanishes. If anything, it increases.

"Don't listen to a word he says Kaminari. Just come over here with me, and get away from him! It doesn't even matter that you're wearing a sheet. We'll get you some clothes later. Just come to me and get away from that maniac!"

She doesn't obey her father in the slightest. If anything, she inches closer to Deidara. Pain floods her facial expression as she repeats her boyfriend's inquiry, realizing the truth behind it.

"Daddy, you have a wife and two kids in Giman. I know you do. You haven't denied it. Why don't you just come out and say it. You have a wife and kids in Giman that you love more than me!"

Nothing she says seems to strike him. If anything, Kenji is growing frustrated with his daughter.

"None of that matters anymore, Kaminari. It's in the past. Just come with me now!"

An endless moment of silence passes. It is thick enough to cut with a kunai. Kenji says nothing more. Neither do Deidara and Kaminari. Eventually Kaminari moves, holding the sheet in place while gathering her undergarments, green pants, and tan kimono-style dress. Once the articles are in hand, she motions for Deidara to block her while she adorns them. The flaxen-hair bomber replies with a nod, standing in a fashion meant to shield her body. Of course, even without Deidara present, Kenji wouldn't have seen a thing. The man turns to face the attic's exit, gaze awkwardly averted from his newly deflowered daughter.

Once Kaminari is fully-clothed, every garment smoothed and in place, she speaks. By this point Deidara is also dressed, though he lacks the shinobi netting that he wears beneath his gray shirt.

Moister remains attached to dark lashes and despair attached to her voice.

"Let's leave, Deidara. I don't belong here."

The flaxen-haired bomber should be smiling, but he isn't. When Deidara responds, his eyes aren't on Kaminari. Cobalt slants are locked onto Kenji. In turn, Kenji's eyes meet his frightfully.

"You're making the right decision. Chouwa is too confining for both of us. Let's go, un."

Deidara forcefully shoves past the forty-five-year-old, followed by Kaminari. They descend the closet shelves, march down the stairs, and exit out the back door of this large, lonely, house. Kaminari's father chases them frantically, the realization hitting that it isn't just the house they're leaving, but the village. He stands on the bottom stair of the back porch as he shouts after the duo, Kaminari and Deidara already as far as the clothesline.

"Kaminari, no! Don't go with him! This guy's type won't stick around for you! If you leave Chouwa with that maniac, you'll regret it!" In a mixture of desperation and anger, he continues. "If you take one more step toward that path, I'll disown you, Kaminari! Don't come crawling back to me several years from now if you need help, because I won't give it to you!"

Kaminari pauses momentarily, silver droplets staining her face like scars. Turning around, the girl faces him. Neither her father nor Deidara can determine whether she appears sad or angry. The only thing she looks to them is broken.

"You know what, Daddy? I'll make a deal. Tell me right now that you're married to a woman and have two other kids in Giman. Tell me the truth about it, tell me you regret it, and tell me you're sorry. If you can look me in the eye and tell me those things, then I'll come back inside and stay in Chouwa."

The girl doesn't miss Deidara's livid facial expression.

"Kaminari, why would you say something like that?! Are you crazy, un?!"

For once, Kaminari ignores her boyfriend. She looks her father in the eye, waiting patiently for a response. A full fifteen seconds passes. Much to the girl's sorrow, her father says nothing. When she is met with nothing but silence, her expression shatters like glass.

"I'm not as crazy as you think, Dei. I knew he would say that." The girl shifts her body so that she faces the path. "Let's go."

With that said, they wade through thick grasses until reaching the earthen trail. They don't look back at the wooden structure. Meanwhile, standing on the porch watching them is Kenji. He watches until they become the size of ants in his vision. Even then, he doesn't turn away.

When Kenji finally leaves the back porch, the sun is setting and the stars are coming out.

* * *

_A Short Time Later_

Kenji enters his aged, dusty, bedroom after drinking a full bottle of sake. He'd spent hours waiting on the porch, and Kaminari didn't come home. No matter how much time passes, the man doesn't think that he will ever be able to fathom what his life has become. His happy, independent, daughter left because she felt that she'd been deserted. As for his other family, they're dead due to the rage of this same daughter's boyfriend.

What the man wouldn't give to bury his sins and start over.

As he stumbles into the room, one that contains only a dresser and a bed, he looks forward to viewing the photographs he'd left there. Photographs of Kaminari. Photographs of her mother. It has been such a long time since he has last touched them.

The moment Kenji reaches his dresser, however, the man is taken aback.

Littering the floor are numerous scraps of paper. Upon closer inspection, these scraps are discovered to be pieces of the photographs that previously sat atop his dresser. Kenji's wedding to his first wife, a portrait of Kaminari's mother, Kaminari's baby pictures, their only family portrait, they have all been reduced to confetti.

In place of Kenji's original family, placed neatly in the frames where the old pictures used to be, are new photographs. The man gawks at the sight of the wedding pictures from his other marriage, his second wife's face smiling at him. There are also photographs of his son and youngest daughter in various frames, one a family portrait that all four of them took together. Then, most astonishing of all is the sight of the hardcover family album. It sits amongst the picture frames, open to a photo of the two kids playing at their favorite park in Giman.

Atop that photo, torn vertically down the middle, is a picture of a six-year-old Kaminari. Written on the back of it, Kenji notices a few seconds later, is a note. The hand writing is clean and decipherable, unlike Kaminari's chicken scratch.

_She's mine. Forget about Kaminari, and remember your real family. You don't deserve her._

Kenji keels over, releasing the contents of his stomach onto the floor. This is for reasons other than an entire bottle of sake.

Once his stomach is empty, he curls into a ball on his bedroom floor and cries.

* * *

The full moon sits high in the sky, bathing the landscape in silver light. Behind the girl is the sea of waving grasses that has served as her home for fifteen years. Beneath her feet is the dirt of the earthen trail. In front of her, more overwhelming than anything else surrounding them, is the forest leading to the world beyond. The trail looks as though it goes on forever, splitting the foliage's unknown depths in two.

Kaminari loiters by the forest's edge, breathing in her last moments in Chouwa like springtime air after a harsh winter. Never has the girl had a harder year than this one. For that matter, neither has she had a worse day. The thought of leaving Chouwa forever, never having to see the villagers or Daddy again, almost seems like a distant fantasy. For a moment, Kaminari questions if this is real.

It is as this thought enters her mind that Deidara speaks. He lingers a meter ahead of Kaminari, waiting for her to follow. Sensing the girl's hesitation, he eyes her oddly.

"You aren't getting cold feet now? There's nothing left for you in Chouwa, un."

Returning his gaze, Kaminari gives a small, sad, smile.

"Don't worry, Dei. I don't want to go back there. Not at all! It's just… I wish I didn't have to leave on such a bad note. I was really hoping for a happier ending."

Smirking, Deidara scoffs teasingly. "Unless you're dead, there is no ending, un. There are only beginnings."

Kaminari's sad smile transforms into happier one.

"I guess you're right." Brows furrowing dejectedly, she confesses, "I still don't want to tell your Akatsuki friends about everything that happened, though. I don't want them to know about my shunning or about what Daddy did. Everything about my past…I want it kept secret."

Deidara's smirk takes on a bit of a mysterious edge at that final remark. He laughs in what could almost be called amusement.

"Don't worry about people digging into your past, Kaminari. This is the Akatsuki you're dealing with. If you don't ask them about their pasts, they won't dig into yours, un. And if they do, we'll make up a convenient lie." Winking secretively, he adds, "Handle things Akatsuki style, and you'll do just fine at the northeast branch hideout."

A sudden pang of nervousness hitting, she inquires, "What's the northeast branch hideout going to be like? I won't be miserable there, will I? I hope I like it okay!"

It is here that Deidara's smirk softens into a smile. He gives another secretive wink as he extends a hand in his girlfriend's direction.

"I don't know the answer any more than you do, un. I guess we'll have to find out."

Kaminari doesn't say anything more to her boyfriend. She returns the smile with sincerity, stepping forward and grasping his outstretched limb. The girl entwines their fingers tightly. Taking the deepest breath she can manage, Deidara and Kaminari enter the forest. The foliage is dark as they descend the trail, but astonishingly, Kaminari doesn't care.

Chouwa's grasses dissipate from her field of vision. She isn't tempted to glance back even once.

**~End~**

" _How Many Colors" is a companion to "The Hidden Truth"_

* * *

**_A/N: This is the last chapter, folks! As intense as this last chapter was, I hope you enjoyed the story! I wanted this story to be more than romantic. I wanted it to by psychological, too. Hopefully I pulled it off okay. :)  
_ **

**_Just so all of you know, Kaminari isn't a new OC. She is actually a character I pulled out of retirement from another Naruto story I wrote a few years ago. I was 19 when I wrote "The Hidden Truth" and 21 when I wrote "How Many Colors", so my writing might not be quite as mature. Either way, I certainly hope you give it a read._**

**_Since I wrote "The Hidden Truth" so long ago, I have been editing it. Because of that, the entire story isn't posted yet. When I do get around to posting the rest of the chapters, Kaminari and Deidara come in during Chapter Five. They're side characters in that story rather than main characters. Even so, I think you will enjoy it! :)_ **

**_Thank you guys for reading! This certainly won't be my last Naruto story, so I would love it if you stuck around for more!_ **

**_Until my next story! :)_ **

**_Forever and Always,_ **

**_~OCQ_ **


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